


Tales of the Golden Deer

by Hazeel



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-28
Updated: 2020-07-07
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:34:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 155,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21515383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hazeel/pseuds/Hazeel
Summary: A series of side stories centered around the Golden Deer with some emphasis on Byleth and Lysithea.Edited and reviewed with help by QueenFighterflyCovert Art by Dannex009Covert Art commissioned by myself and Kenji1104
Relationships: My Unit | Byleth/Lysithea von Ordelia
Comments: 103
Kudos: 266





	1. Officers Academy Mock Battle (White Clouds: 4/30)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Former mercenary Byleth Eisner is tasked to lead the Golden Deer House as the Officers Academy's newest professor. With many of his students already underestimating their professor due to his age, will Byleth be able to take command and lead the Golden Deer to victory in the mock battle?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT (6/21/2020): Although this is the first chapter chronologically, it was not the first chapter I wrote. If you want to see the original Chapter 1, that is now Chapter 13. I plan to touch up some of the early chapters later one, starting with this one. So expect more updates.
> 
> EDIT (7/17/2020): I have reviewed and cleaned up all the chapters. The fic should be a bit more enjoyable to read now.
> 
> \---
> 
> Releasing three one shots today. This chapter and the next are both requests, while the third is something I wanted to do on my own. The request, in this case, was to recreate the mock battle at the beginning of the game. My partner wanted to challenge me to write the game's combat into story format and to show off Byleth's early years as a professor, while he still had the personality of the "Ashen Demon". ...It is just a retelling of the mock battle, so I acknowledge that not everyone will be interested.
> 
> Despite being such a short battle, this ended up being longer than I expected. And I admit, I'm not terribly good at fight scenes, nor am I sure how convincingly I can marry story and gameplay when it comes to battles. Hopefully I didn't do too terribly. Enjoy!

**  
**

**White Clouds**

**Three Houses**

**Day 30 of the Great Tree Moon**

“Ah! There he is!” Claude said eagerly, pointing to their new professor as Byleth made his way to the Training Grounds. 

Today was the day of the mock battle, where the students of the Officers Academy would be tested on their current battle prowess and the professors would be evaluated on their leadership. Byleth had just returned from the faculty strategy meeting and joined the Training Grounds where the other students had gathered to meet him.

“The mock battle is about to start. Training gear only. Professors are limited to basic spells. Students have no restriction on magic. Suit up and meet me there.” Byleth said, without a hint of emotion in his voice.

“Woah, hang on a moment, Teach!” Claude exclaimed. “Shouldn’t we discuss tactics and basic strategy before the battle?”

Byleth glanced at the others, who were all looking at him expectantly. 

“...Fine. I will wait outside. We will discuss it on the way.” He said as he grabbed a training sword and headed out. 

It wasn't unusual for Byleth to be so aloof, but in truth he wasn't particularly invested in this. There were no stakes involved and nobody was going to die. And while it was true that a small part of Byleth really did hate losing, he didn't expect the other houses to put up much of a fight if his own students were anything to judge by.

Claude and Leonie might have been passable mercenaries, but the rest had done little to impress him. Raphael was strong but slow, sloppy, and inexperienced. He had clearly never been in a real fight his life. Lorenz had some combat experience, but his style reeked of unnecessary bravado and horribly impractical movement. 

Next was Lysithea who, like Raphael, clearly lacked real combat experience. Byleth could see that she was clever, quick thinking, rational, and strong willed...truly the epitome of untapped potential. But untapped potential was just that: potential. It meant nothing in the here and now. Then again, now that he was her teacher, Byleth supposed it was his job to help her reach that potential.

Byleth sighed. Although he was strong in his own right, he didn't have a strong grasp on all combat related subjects and knew little of magic especially. A bridge he would have to cross soon. Then there was Hilda, Ignatz, and Marianne to consider. It was clear none of these students even wanted to be enrolled here and Byleth wasn't quite sure what he was going to do with them. He could learn new skills easily enough, how was he to train unwilling soldiers?

Eventually the students geared up and retrieved their weapons—except for Lysithea and Marianne who came as is—and the group made their way towards the battlefield.

“I can't help but notice that we have yet to form any sort of strategy for this battle.” Lorenz said, silently evaluating his professor. “Please tell me you have a plan going forward.”

Byleth paused, considering this for a moment, before turning to face his students.

“The plan is simple. You will follow my every order without question. If you refuse, you will fall. If you fall, I will leave you.”

Nobody said a word. This was hardly the pep talk the students had expected from their professor. This was the sort of thing Byleth often said to new mercenaries and it was something Jeralt had once said to him right before his first mission. 

Leonie recalled hearing Jeralt say the exact same thing to a group of mercenaries before braving a bandit-filled forest near her village. But when Jeralt said it, Leonie knew, even then, that he hadn't been serious and was only establishing authority. With the professor, however, Leonie couldn't be sure. When Byleth said those words, he did it without any sense of strictness, or anger, or genuine concern. He simply said them.

Jeralt had once described Byleth as 'standoffish' to Leonie, but that was hardly an apt description. The professor was so cold, completely lacking his father's warmth. In fact, Leonie was starting to wonder if he really was Captain Jeralt's child.

“Lastly,” Byleth added, “You will only take orders from me. Not Claude.” 

Removing Claude as an authority figure was something Byleth had considered early on and, in this respect, he felt he was lucky to be teaching the Golden Deer house. Edelgard was the next emperor of Adrestia, Dimitri was the next king of Faerghus. They had known their classmates for too long and held too much authority over them. 

Claude's political position, by comparison, lacked the supreme authority the other two House Leaders had. In addition, he had yet to earn the respect and unwavering obedience of the Golden Deer. This made it easier for Byleth to establish full authority over the class and remove the obstacles that would arise from dual leadership.

“Ah, finally. Something we can agree to.” Lorenz smirked.

“Wow. The professor certainly didn’t waste time putting you in your place, Claude.” Hilda giggled.

“Heh, then I guess it’s all on you whether we win or not, eh Teach? No pressure.” Claude said with a playful wink.

“Let’s get out there and win!” Raphael shouted.

Byleth briefly examined the remaining students before continuing the march towards the battlefield. He could tell that Leonie was already comparing him to Jeralt. Meanwhile Ignatz seemed intimidated—no, downright fearful of him. Marianne appeared to be downcast, but seemed relatively unaffected by everything that was going on around her.

And that other girl—Lysithea—she had been staring at him intently the entire time, oddly fixated on her new professor. Even now she was sticking close to his side, almost jogging to keep pace, surveying him with her sharp and calculating eyes. 

_...What the hell is she doing?_ Byleth wondered, as they finally made it to the site of the mock battle.

The field they had arrived on was large in a sense, but rather small to host a battle—even a practice battle. Although he couldn’t distinguish the shapes from each other, Byleth was still able to make out the students of the Black Eagles and Blue Lions as they prepared themselves. He was even able to notice the traps they were laying out, which ruined any sense of surprise the other houses might have had in store for them. 

There were a few fair-sized forests doting the field and, although the plane was mostly flat, there were three small hills at the edge of the perimeter, each one holding a white marble podium, enchanted with some kind of magic. Professor Hanneman and Professor Manuela were already standing on their podiums. Byleth ignored his own and got into position. His students looked at him with confusion until Claude snapped his fingers.

“Ah right, Teach, you may not have used these in your mercenary days, but the podiums you see are enchanted. If you stand on them, you can use scrying magic to observe the battle field and telecommunication magic to communicate with us from a distance—assuming you’re a novice and can’t use these spells on your own, no offense. To use one, what you need to do is...”

Byleth, however, wasn’t paying attention to Claude’s explanation. He instead chose to continue his observation of the battlefield and the formation of the other houses. He had no desire to stay behind and give orders from the back. If he wanted troops to do something right, he had to be in the fight himself. A trait in leadership that Jeralt had passed onto him.

“Got all that, Teach?”

“...I will lead from the front lines.” Byleth said, disregarding him.

Claude blinked, but didn’t argue. The others seemed a bit perplexed at their teacher’s decision, but whether it was from inexperience or intimidation chose to remain quiet.

“Captain Jeralt will be presiding over this mock battle, won’t he?” Leonie asked after a while.

“Yes.” Byleth responded. He didn’t seem interested in this.

“Let’s give it everything we have and show him what we’re made of, OK?” Leonie said with an encouraging smile. “I’ll start preparing the traps!”

“Wait, shouldn’t we be discussing our formation?” Lysithea asked.

“Hmm.” Byleth examined his students again. With himself included, there were nine of them total. That wasn't even enough to form a company, let alone a battalion. Byleth wasn't used to working with such small numbers. 

“We will use the standard squad formation as a base.” Byleth said, which meant that melee troops would be at the front, ranged troops in the center, and mages in the back. “But you, Lawrence, will be guarding her.”

Byleth pointed to Marianne.

“That is Lorenz, Professor.” Lorenz said, his lip curling. “Lorenz Hellman Gloucester. And it is a noble’s duty to inspire those around them, to lead the charge into battle. I won’t have my skills belittled by—”

“Keeping the white mage safe is the single most important task I can assign.” Byleth said. “But if you think you're unqualified, I will ask someone else to take your place.”

“I—n-no, let’s not make any rash decisions, shall we?” Lorenz stammered. “I was only offering my opinion regarding—”

“You.” Byleth turned to the girl next to him and paused. Lythisiya? “Lysithea.”

“Yes?” Lysithea responded, her eyes widening. Her professor certainly had a presence to him.

“Stay next to me in front.”

“In...front?” Lysithea asked, raising an eyebrow. Several other students seemed confused by this decision as well. Byleth examined her. Despite her ability, she was small, appeared frail, and gave off a sense of vulnerability. If he were an enemy soldier, she would certainly be the ideal target.

“Out of all of us, you appear to be the weakest and most vulnerable.” Byleth said.

“...So you wish to protect me, is that right?” Lysithea asked, scowling and folding her arms, wondering if the new professor was underestimating her based on her age...despite being so young himself.

“Precisely.” Claude interjected. “It’s common strategy to pick off the weakest first while also targeting the commander. ‘Cut off the head and the body will die’. By placing the two of you together, we can easily predict where our enemy will focus their efforts, while drawing attention away from Marianne, our white mage.”

“I’m expecting the others to underestimate you, and I’m expecting you to take full advantage of their error.” Byleth added. “You will utilize the element of surprise while also acting as bait. This requires someone who is quick thinking. I’m assuming you can handle it.”

“Oh! I—yes, of course, Professor.” Lysithea said, relieved to see that her assumptions had been mistaken and eager to meet her professor's expectations.

“Then it’s settled.” Byleth said, sitting cross legged in front of the scryer, leaning his head on his fist. He watched as the other houses prepared themselves for battle and waited for the signal for the battle to start. Apparently, they would be hearing Jeralt’s voice at any moment.

 _“Ahem. Students and professors of the Officers Academy.”_ Jeralt's voice echoed within the minds of everyone present on the field. He was likely using a scryer of his own to communicate, and his words seemed scripted. _“The mock battle is about to begin. The rules are simple: You aren't permitted to kill each other. If you fall off your feet, you’re finished. I will inform you when you're out. Only training weapons and basic spells will be used. The last house standing will be declared the winner. This assignment will not be graded. The purpose of this mock battle is to serve as a benchmark for your current abilities. Please represent the academy well and good luck. Let the mock battle begin!”_

With that, all the Golden Deer students turned their attention towards their professor, awaiting his command. Byleth, however, gave no response. He had only risen to his feet to avoid being disqualified but made no other move nor issued any commands.

“Uh, Teach? You doze off or something? It’s time to get started.” Claude said. Byleth ignored him.

“Come on, surely you're not _that_ disinterested.” Leonie frowned. 

“Shh! I think he’s planning something.” Ignatz said. 

Byleth, however, had no concrete plan. This wasn’t an ordinary battle, nor were they ordinary battle conditions. Furthermore, he was dealing with students, not seasoned warriors. Before they started, he wanted to observe how the other houses would react.

“In a three-way battle like this...there is no incentive to take the initiative.” Byleth muttered to himself. “They seem to have that figured out at least.” 

At the moment, nobody had launched an attack. It was only logical to lie in wait and let your opponents pick each other off. Byleth eyes surveyed the positioning of the other houses. 

“Due to the position of the forests and the hills...I’d say the Blue Lions are at a disadvantage.” Byleth noted.

“Huh? A disadvantage? What are you talking about, Professor?” Raphael asked. “They all look pretty tough to me.”

“Yeah, I don’t see it either.” Leonie said in confusion. “I mean look at all that forest cover they have between us and the Black Eagles.” 

Byleth didn't say a word in response, but after a moment's pause Lysithea spoke up.

“Ah! It’s the positioning of the hills, isn’t it?” Lysithea asked, placing a hand to her chin. 

Byleth nodded.

“I see...and the Blue Lions have noticed as well. That’s why they’ve taken such a defensive approach.” Claude added.

“I’m sorry, but _what_ are you talking about?” Lorenz asked in indignation

“The positioning of our scryers and starting positions are uneven.” Byleth said. “There isn't an equal distance between our starting points. We are much closer to the Blue Lions than we are the Black Eagles.”

“Because of that, the Blue Lions are susceptible to a pincer attack.” Claude said. “It’s practically an invitation to join forces with the Black Eagles and wipe out a vulnerable common enemy, right Teach?”

“Unfortunately, the Black Eagles don’t seem to be of the same mind.” Lysithea said, her brow furrowing. 

The Black Eagles had positioned four of their members outside a nearby forest while the other four hid inside. They showed no sign of engaging—at the moment.

“I think you spoke too soon. Look!” Leonie said, pointing. 

A red headed figure—Ferdinand—broke apart from the Black Eagle's formation and started sprinting, but rather than sprint towards the Blue Lions, he was making his way towards the Golden Deer.

“Um, hey, is it just me or is he headed towards _us_?!” Hilda exclaimed.

“Don’t engage. He’s trying to lure us.” Byleth said, but he soon realized he was wrong.

The next moment, Byleth spotted Edelgard as she briefly retreated from her hiding spot in the forest and yelled something at Ferdinand. Soon after, Hubert was following him. They had just given away their position and sent not one, but two people to face the entire Golden Deer house alone. This had to be a bluff. ...But no, Ferdinand was still making his way towards them, Hubert hot on his trail. 

_Are they really that...stupid?_ Byleth wondered.

“Looks like they’re still coming!” Raphael said.

“...Move into formation.” Byleth said. “Archers, fire simultaneously at the red-haired one when he reaches that tree’s distance.” Byleth pointed. “And you—Lysithea—I want you to focus on the sinister man behind him. Use your spells to counter his.” 

Byleth wasn’t used to addressing his troops by name, but he was already starting to forget the names of his students and he needed to get into the habit of saying them.

“Ha! Victory is assured.” Ferdinand cried, lunging towards Byleth. 

Byleth didn’t even bother drawing his sword as a volley of arrows pelted Ferdinand. They were only training arrows, so they wouldn’t pierce the skin, but they were enough to hurt significantly.

“Ack!” Ferdinand cried out.

“Drat!” Hubert hissed, sending a Miasma blast at Raphael as he charged to take Ferdinand down.

“No you don’t!” Lysithea cried, sending her own Miasma blast in response. 

The spells collided in midair, exploding upon contact as Raphael slammed Ferdinand with his fists, knocking him to the ground.

“I am the son of House Aegir! How did I fail?” Ferdinand cried as he heard himself being dismissed by Jeralt. “I must need to train harder...”

“Pitiful,” Hubert chided harshly. “Your brash disobedience has cost Lady Edelgard dearly. To think I placed myself in harm's way to assist a hindrance such as yourself."

With the briefest glance across the approaching Golden Deer students, it was obvious that Hubert was outnumbered. He turned on his heel, attempting to flee, but Byleth had already made his way behind him. Without enough time to react, Hubert was backhanded forcefully by Byleth’s leather shield and knocked to the ground.

“Urk!”

With that harsh throw to the ground, Hubert too was dismissed. He gave a low growl in response, standing up and carefully brushing the dust and grass off of his clothing as he exchanged a quiet look with Byleth. It was hard to tell whether it was irritation or respect and Hubert turned away to leave before Byleth could figure out which it was.

“Nice job, everyone!” Leonie said with a smirk.

“And a point well made, Professor.” Lysithea said, smiling sweetly at him. 

Byleth blinked in confusion. What was she talking about?

“You know, I thought you were just trying to scare us with that earlier comment, but it all makes sense now.” Ignatz added with a nervous laugh.

“Indeed.” Lorenz concurred. “You were quite right to establish early on that a commander's orders are to be followed without question. Attempting to amend the disorderly conduct of his comrade only brought their group further into disarray. As nobles, we must strive for discipline.”

Byleth nodded. In truth, he hadn’t intended to teach them this way, but it was a lesson learned regardless. Or at least now his students seemed to understand the necessity of obedience and structure on the battlefield. Byleth turned back to the Black Eagles and wondered why they started off so badly. Was it sheer incompetence from their students? Or had dual leadership between Edelgard and Manuela been the problem?

“Doesn’t look like they have any intention of moving.” Claude said, staring at the other two houses. Since Ferdinand and Hubert's blunder, neither of the two seemed interested in making the same mistake and thinning their numbers.

“...We will have to take the initiative.” Byleth said after a few moments.

“We’re going to fight them directly? Isn’t that a bit reckless?” Leonie frowned.

"Fighting one of the houses would tire us out, wouldn't it?" Ignatz added in agreement.

“Letting the other houses do all the fighting for you...it’s what I'd do.” Hilda said.

“Better that we err on the side of caution, Professor.” Lorenz said. “It is never wise to underestimate your adversary.” 

Byleth didn't immediately respond. He seemed to be staring blankly at the field before him. It was hard to tell if he was thinking, daydreaming, or just spacing out.

“Profe—” Lysithea started but gasped when Byleth, without a moment’s notice, had grabbed her arm, pulled her aside, and deflected an incoming arrow with his shield. One of the Blue Lion’s archers—Ashe—had shot at Lysithea from the forest. 

_How had he seen that?_ Lysithea thought to herself. She had been surveying the entire field closely in case of an ambush while her professor hadn’t even been looking in the direction of the forest.

“Don’t.” Byleth warned as his students prepared to attack. 

This time they were being baited; Byleth was sure of it. Ashe wasn’t showing the same recklessness that Ferdinand had. His movements were cautious, he kept to the forest, and he was more focused on staying out of harm’s way than fighting them. 

“He isn’t trying to fight. He wants us to follow him.”

“What’s the plan, Teach?” Claude asked.

“We’re heading west of the Black Eagles, let’s go.” Byleth responded, beckoning the others to follow.

“And what then?” Leonie asked.

“We use the forest as cover. I'm sure the Black Eagles will have laid out some traps. If you are Jeralt’s apprentice, then you will be familiar with recognizing them.”

“Hmph.” Leonie scoffed as she moved close to the front of the formation.

‘If’ she was Jeralt’s apprentice? Just who did he think he was? Leonie had grown up in a hunting village and been setting traps when the professor was still being potty trained.

“A-And what about him?” Ignatz asked nervously, referring to Ashe.

“He won't follow us this far.” Byleth said shortly. “Hurry, you’re starting to lag behind.” He added to Hilda and Marianne, who were in the back.

“Oh! S-Sorry.” Marianne stuttered weakly, picking up the pace.

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Hilda moaned, rushing back into position. 

Sure enough as soon as the Golden Deer entered the western forest, Ashe stopped his pursuit and retreated back to the other Blue Lions.

“We will see more traps as we get closer..” Byleth said, pushing his way forward. “Our strategy is to launch a sneak attack on their commander.”

“We’re going straight for Professor Manuela?!” Hilda exclaimed in surprise.

“Makes sense.” Claude nodded. “It's only reasonable that we focus on the enemy commander and white mages. Professor Manuela is both.”

“Pitfall.” Leonie pointed out, directing the others to avoid the trap.

“The Black Eagles have fortified themselves within another nearby forest.” Byleth said. “Manuela must be scrying for them. Once we attack, she will call for aid and lure the others to us”

“Oh, I see. That makes sense.” Leonie said. "The others will be slowed down by their own defenses and traps. By the time they make it, we will have already dealt with Professor Manuela and they will be left exposed. Nice plan, Professor! I knew Jeralt taught you well. ...Pitfall, Raphael.” She added, guided him away from it.

“I'm noticing a higher frequency in these traps. We must be getting close.” Lorenz noted.

“Pitfall.” Leonie said again, but was blocked by Byleth’s arm. “Hey, what’s that for?!” she scowled.

“Tree snare.” Byleth said. Leonie had nearly triggered it while sidestepping the pitfall trap.

“Oh...I...didn’t see that one.” Leonie said, eyes widened.

“They made the pitfalls obvious on purpose.” Byleth said, sticking his sword into one of the covered holes. His blade didn't go deep. “And some of them are shallow. They weren’t made to trap us. Just lure us into a false sense of security. There’s more ahead, but better hidden.” He pointed. “You see them, don’t you?”

“Yeah, there’s three—no four of them.” Leonie nodded. “Oh—and another tree snare trap.”

“Two tree snares.” Byleth corrected her. “It's the same trick. One is a more obvious decoy.”

“Wow, when did they have the time to set all _this_ up?” Hilda asked.

“They must have scouted the area hours ago and made preparations...while we were bonding with our new professor.” Lorenz said scathingly.

“I suppose now is as good a time as any to point out that if we fall for any of these traps, we’re as good as eliminated.” Claude said.

“Hold on, stop!” Leonie cried out, causing the group to halt again. She paused for a moment, examining the area before them. “OK that’s...two pitfalls—three pitfalls. They’re pretty well hidden, so follow me.”

“Woah, a trap within a trap? Now that’s impressive!” Raphael said as Leonie carefully led them through the danger zone.

“There’s only one person in the Black Eagle House who would be capable of traps this clever...” Lysithea frowned.

“Ah, you’re thinking of Petra, right?” Claude asked.

“Yes.” Lysithea nodded. “She’s the princess of Brigid, I believe. An island nation off the western coast of Fodlan. They are a hunter-gatherer society that often relies on techniques such as these during times of war.”

“You researched our opponents.” Byleth noted. Lysithea nodded, but Claude shook his head.

“Nothing so nefarious as that. I just wanted to get to know everyone.” Claude said with his easy smile. 

Byleth somehow doubted his intentions were that innocent, but regardless he was impressed with their initiative. It was clear that he had underestimated some of these students. Not just in his house, but in the others as well. Byleth was starting to regret not taking this seriously.

“Ah! We made it!” Ignatz said, spotting the clearing.

“Best remain cautious. They are sure to have more traps lying in wait here as well.” Lorenz warned.

Byleth took a glance outside the forest. He could spot Manuela at her scryer, attempting to locate them within the forest cover. Only one student had been left to guard her, Caspar. There were indeed several more traps. So, the Black Eagles weren't completely hopeless, but even so they had left themselves in a bad situation. 

“I can see a pitfall...” Byleth said.

“And three tripwires.” Leonie added, pointing.

“Let’s do thi—” Raphael shouted, but was quickly interrupted.

“Shh!!! Be quiet, Raphael!” Lysithea hissed. “You’ll blow our cover.”

“Pay close attention.” Byleth said, taking a deep breath. “Lysithea, you will launch the first attack against—” he didn’t know Caspar’s name. “—him.” He pointed. “Once she attacks, the archers will target Manuela and Lysithea and I will move in to take her down. Hilda, you focus on...the blue haired one. Raphael and Lorenz will keep an eye on the forest and guard Marianne.” 

The students all nodded.

“And once we attack...” Claude started

“Hanneman will spot us with his scryer.” Byleth said. “He will likely tell the Blue Lions to fall in and get the jump on us while we’re still distracted or fatigued from our fight with the Black Eagles. The sooner we end our fight with the Black Eagles, the more time Marianne will have to help you recuperate before the Blue Lions appear.”

“Ah, and we can still make use of the traps the Black Eagles left!” Lysithea said.

“Correct.” Byleth said. “Get in position everyone. You lead in with the first attack, Lysithea.”

Lysithea nodded, waiting a moment for the archers to take aim and for Raphael and Hilda to examine the terrain one more time and get into running position. “Leave it to me.” She said, before sending a Miasma blast at Caspar.

“Argh!!!” Caspar cried out, as he stumbled but managed to stop himself from falling over. Before Manuela could even react, a volley of arrows soared in her direction, bombarding her just as they had with Ferdinand.

“Oof! It’s an ambush! Let’s take them out!” Manuela cried, shooting a Nosferatu spell at Byleth, who ducked and charged at her alongside Lysithea while Hilda went after Caspar. 

Lysithea sent another Miasma spell at Manuela mid-run, but Manuela gracefully jumped out of the way. Byleth pulled out his training sword, closing in on Manuela, but to his surprise she pulled out a training sword of her own. He had expected black magic. The two locked blades.

“Oh dear, it seems I’ve been caught all on my own. What are you going to do to me, Professor?” Manuela asked with a playfully seductive tone. 

With a fluid movement Manuela slipped out of their deadlock and attempted to stab into Byleth’s shoulder, but he was ready for it and blocked her attack, following up with a kick to the stomach. Manuela flew backwards from the surprising force of Byleth’s strength. Most would have been knocked down from this, but Manuela, much like a feline, landed perfectly on her feet.

“I see you like to play rough.” Manuela grunted before leaping back in.

The two really did have opposite fighting styles. Manuela’s swordsmanship relied on grace, finesse, and fluidity—it was almost like a dance. Meanwhile Byleth relied on basic but precise blocks, intense power attacks, and his sword strokes were interwoven with brawling, kicking, and even spitting. It was a very dirty fighting style, almost brutish were it not so adaptive and clever. Lysithea had not fired a single spell since the two engaged—she couldn’t risk hitting her professor.

“Don’t worry about me, I’ll dodge it!” Byleth said, sounding strangely monotone, even when yelling in the heat of combat. 

Although Byleth had a rather modest view of his own combat abilities, if there was one thing he did take pride in, it was his keen awareness of his surroundings. It was nearly impossible to catch him off guard. Lysithea nodded and took aim before firing another Miasma spell.

Manuela broke the engagement with Byleth and leapt back to dodge the spell. She was just about to dive back in before her eyes suddenly went wide. “Caspar you—!”

“Argh! Come on!” Caspar yelled in rage. During his fight with Hilda, he had somehow managed to fall victim to one of the Black Eagle’s own tripwire traps. “What?! I’m out?! How—” He exclaimed as he heard Jeralt dismiss him

“Things are not going to plan. I suppose I have you to thank for that, Professor.” Edelgard sighed as she, Linhardt, Dorothea, Petra, and Bernadetta finally made it out of the forest. “Nevertheless, we can still turn this around. Everyone, let’s focus our efforts on the Professor!”

“Claude, take care of Edelgard.” Byleth called out, as he dodged incoming arrows from Bernadetta and Petra. “Raphael, Hilda, focus on the archers. Leonie and Ignatz focus on the mages.”

“Can’t we just forfeit?” Linhardt yawned. “I’m so exhausted right now."

"That simply won't do, Linhardt." Edelgard insisted, with an urgent but calm wave of her hand, brushing him aside as she passed him. "Come, the pride of the Black Eagles rests on this battle."

Even in the heat of the faux battle, both Claude and Edelgard maintained their usual poise. Edelgard remained calm and elegant while Claude gave her one of his usual striking smiles. Just as before, Byleth could sense something that Claude was masking something with that smile of his, but this time he couldn't help but notice that Edelgard was doing the same.

“Look at that, a real-life princess!” Claude said playfully as he prepared his bow. “I’ll have to be careful not to scar that pretty face of yours.”

“Careful, Claude.” Edelgard warned. “I'll win no matter what, but you're only making things harder for yourself.”

“Losing hasn't even crossed your mind, has it? Ooh, this'll be a bit of shock, then.” Claude retorted.

“To shock was your intention to begin with, was it not?” Edelgard said.

“Ooorraaah!” Raphael yelled as he charged towards Bernadetta, who shrieked in fear and retreated.

“You will not be stopping me!” Petra said as Hilda—tentatively—stood her ground to block her from intervening in battle between their professors.

“Ugh. Guarding the Professor? What a pain.” Hilda sighed. “Don’t take too long over there, OK?” 

Byleth ignored this as he continued his engagement with Manuela. She leapt back from his advances yet again.

“She’s stalling for time.” Byleth said, turning to Lysithea. "She's hoping the Blue Lions will help the Black Eagles fight a larger threat when they arrive. Attack as you would normally. Don’t worry, you won’t hit me.”

Lysithea nodded. “Let’s make this quick!” she said, sending a Miasma spell at Manuela, who dodged with a flourish. 

Byleth followed up with several more sword swings, stepping out of the way, just as Lysithea launched another spell. Manuela stepped back just in time but wasn’t able to prepare herself for Byleth’s following power attack, which knocked her sword clean out of her hands. He followed up with another strike, but Manuela ducked beneath him and attempted to retreat, but took a Miasma spell to the face instead, finally falling on her back.

“Oomph... Well done, Professor... I nearly wound up a patient in my own infirmary...” Manuela sighed, before getting back to her feet and starting her stride to exit the field. “Good luck with the rest of the Black Eagle house, though. You’re _certainly_ going to need it...”

“Let’s go help the others, quickly.” Byleth said, heading back towards the edge of the forest.

During this time, Raphael had scared Bernadetta into fetal position—it wasn't a real defeat, but it technically meant she was out—and just as the two rejoined their comrades, Ignatz and Leonie had cornered Dorothea, who—like Manuela—was coming at them with a combination of sword and spell.

“I hope you’re watching, Jeralt!” Leonie cried out as she made several quick jabs with her training spear, knocking Dorothea off balance, before sweeping the spear beneath her feet to trip her.

Dorothea fell with the briefest of shrieks, but more out of surprise than pain or fear. Upon hearing Jeralt inform her she was disqualified, Dorothea slowly pushed herself up to her feet, chuckling softly and dusting the dust off of her uniform.

“My, my... Well done. It seems your new professor is a very capable leader,” Dorotheea said playfully from behind a hand as she began to wander off the battlefield.

“It’s unfortunate you weren’t assigned to our class, Professor.” Edelgard sighed. “No matter, it can’t be helped. Even if I cannot beat you, I won’t go down without a fight!” 

With amazing speed and agility, Edelgard dodged Claude’s next arrow shot and ruthlessly shoved past him. Claude would have fallen there had Raphael been close by to catch him.

“I got you, Claude!” Raphael said, keeping him steady. Meanwhile Edelgard was heading straight for Marianne.

“Stand aside!” Lorenz said, lunging at Edelgard with his spear.

“Don’t waste my time.” Edelgard retorted, dodging his attack and swinging down with her training axe. Lorenz blocked it in time, but even with only one hand, Edelgard was quickly overpowering him, forcing him to kneel on one knee and bringing him dangerously close to disqualification.

“I-Impressive!” Lorenz gasped, struggling against Edelgard’s sheer power before shouting to Marianne. “You must flee!” 

Marianne's eyes widened as she quickly retreated. Edelgard turned to face her instead and with great accuracy, chucked her training axe at Marianne.

“Ah! G-Goddess, protect—” Marianne closed her eyes, braced for impact, but it never came. 

Byleth leapt in front of her and blocked the attack with his shield. Although quite strong himself, Byleth had to admit that there was a lot of power in Edelgard’s throw. Training axe or not...that could have seriously hurt Marianne.

“P-Professor...?” Marianne said in almost a whisper.

“Stand back.” Byleth said as Edelgard drew another weapon—a training sword she had brought in addition to the axe. 

Just as Edelgard was about to finish off Lorenz, she leapt back as Claude shot an arrow between the two of them, giving Lorenz time to stand on his feet and fall back to Marianne. Edelgard turned to face Byleth, accepting his challenge.

Without another word, the two charged at each other, their blades clashing. Although his face didn’t show it, Byleth was actually quite astonished. Edelgard was on a completely different level from the other students, her speed and power matched his own...no, perhaps it even surpassed his. 

And yet despite this power and the ferocity of the fight, Byleth couldn't help but feel as though Edelgard was holding back. The only definitive advantage Byleth had in this battle was his experience, but even so Edelgard seemed to share his gift of unnatural spatial awareness. Not only could she keep up with Byleth's sword, but was also capable of dodging the arrows and spells of his students, even those shot from behind her.

“I will prevail!” Edelgard cried, blocking Byleth’s power strike.

 _Amazing_. The only other person who had ever managed to block one of Byleth's power strikes was Jeralt himself. Jeralt's style of swordplay relied on power attacks backed on power attacks backed with so much brute force that they were almost impossible to stop. Byleth had inherited the basics of swordplay from Jeralt and relied on similar power attacks. It was hard to believe a mere student would be capable of stopping them.

But...what was this feeling? This strange sensation that came over Byleth when his blade locked with Edelgard's? It was some kind of...heat. It was intense. Hot. Like a flame. But Edelgard could feel it too, couldn’t she? Yes, he could tell by staring into her eyes that she felt this heat as well. It seemed to surprise her—so much that she didn’t react in time when Claude’s arrow hit her in the face.

“Agh!” Edelgard cried as Byleth wasted no time in smashing through her defenses and knocking her to the ground. “Forced to retreat... Well, things will only get tougher from here on out.” 

Byleth stared at Edelgard intently for a moment. He had been very lucky that she had gotten distracted at that moment, but he didn't have time to focus on that. There were still others. Byleth turned to the forest where only Linhardt remained. Linhardt simply placed his hands in the air in surrender.

“Alright, you win. I give up. No need to start attacking.” Linhardt yawned.

“To think the Black Eagles would be defeated so shamefully.” Edelgard sighed. “I will remember this.”

 _“The Black Eagle House has been defeated.”_ Jeralt’s voice echoed in their heads. _“The Golden Deer and Blue Lions remain in the mock battle, nine to eight.”_

“I’m sorry, did he say ‘eight’?” Leonie asked.

“Maybe someone got sick?” Hilda suggested. 

Byleth’s eyes narrowed on Claude, who was very quick to hold both hands up in a defensive manner.

“Hey, it wasn’t me, Teach! I swear!” Claude exclaimed.

“Perhaps...it was one of the traps?” Marianne muttered quietly.

“That would be the most logical conclusion.” Lorenz agreed. “But who—?”

“Annette.” Lysithea sighed. She had always been a clumsy girl.

“Either way, if one of them fell into one of Petra’s traps...” Claude started.

“That means they’re moving through the forest, trying to surround us.” Byleth finished.

“But if they can coordinate an attack like that, it means Professor Hanneman must still be at the scryer giving orders, making it nine versus seven.” Lysithea added.

“We don’t have much time, we need to recuperate.” Leonie said.

“Do as much as you can to help everyone.” Byleth said to Marianne. “Not me.” He added as she moved towards him. “I don’t tire easily.”

“I-I’m sorry...” Marianne muttered as she shuffled away, moving between students and using her white magic to help them recover their stamina. 

Byleth stared at the surrounding forest and frowned. It wouldn’t be long for the Blue Lions to arrive. Surely, their goal was to attack them while they were still tired and before Marianne could assist them in regaining their strength.

“Once they attack, it’s best that you and Lawr—Lorenz move over there.” Byleth pointed towards the scryer where Manuela used to be. “Mind the tripwire traps. Hopefully they will help protect you from any incoming threats.” Byleth thought for a moment again and turned to Lysithea, remembering that she had studied the other teams. “Do you know how many archers and mages the Blue Lions have, Lysithea?”

Lysithea paused for a moment before answering. “That boy we saw earlier, Ashe...he’s the only dedicated archer that I know of. However, Felix, the heir to House Fraldarius is also proficient with a bow as well as the sword.”

“You should keep an eye out for him, Teach.” Claude warned.

“Felix...” Byleth frowned. He didn't know who that was.

“You’ll know him when you see him.” Claude laughed. “He’ll be the scowling one with a sword who rushes straight for you. He loves fighting powerful opponents.”

"You mean he's uncooperative." Byleth said. "And he will fight me no matter his orders."

“Bullseye.” Claude responded.

Byleth nodded. “And the mages?”

“Assuming Annette was the one who fell for the trap, that would only leave Mercedes.” Lysithea said.

“We once attended the Royal School of Sorcery in Fhirdiad.” Lorenz noted. “Her strengths lay in white magic. It is best to assume she will be healing the others.” 

Byleth placed his chin in his hand and considered the situation. One archer. Maybe two if Felix cooperated. No black magic users. The Golden Deer were a bit more familiar with the trap placement that the Black Eagles had left behind. That didn’t leave the Blue Lions with many options for an ambush. The Blue Lions likely planned to surround them and attack with overwhelming force before Byleth could properly coordinate his students.

The logical approach would be to ask Claude and Lysithea for information on his opponents, but the Blue Lions could attack at any moment. Byleth cursed himself for not being more vigilant and at least getting an overview of the other student's abilities. Still, what would _he_ do in the Blue Lion's situation? 

The logical first step would be to familiarize himself with the traps in the forest. The Blue Lions were probably doing that right now, which is why the Golden Deer had yet to be attacked. The next step would be placing their archer—Ashe—in any area with many of these traps. Ashe would familiarize himself with the area and try to lure the Golden Deer to his location, using the environment to ambush them before they got close enough. And then what about the others?

“Stay close.” Byleth said, beckoning his students towards him.

“Are they here, Professor?” Leonie asked, drawing her bow.

“It’s likely.” Byleth nodded.

If he were Dimitri, he would have attacked Marianne, the white mage, or someone vulnerable like Lysithea or Ignatz. This would draw Byleth out. Better yet, he would attack both and split Byleth’s focus. He couldn’t do that now; his students were together now and guarded.

"Backs together. Keep an eye out for the others." Byleth ordered, forming a circle with his students.

The only real threat now would be a mage, whose black magic could cause wide scale destruction. But if Annette was truly out of the picture, this wouldn't be a problem. With their vulnerabilities covered, Byleth had to consider who his students would focus on. The white mage, Mercedes, was an obvious choice, but she would likely be well protected—perhaps in the forest with Ashe. That’s what Byleth would do. 

Byleth also had to consider Dimitri. He wasn’t familiar with the Blue Lion’s students, but if he were to compare Dimitri to the students he had seen so far at the academy, it was fair to assume that Dimitri was the strongest among the Blue Lions. He could probably hold his own against Byleth. Or at least hold him off for some time in a one on one engagement.

If Dimitri were to hold him off in a duel, Byleth had to consider his ability to direct his students during combat. In truth, he wasn’t sure. He wasn’t used to drawn out fights like this. Usually, his opponents would fall to him in a matter of seconds. Most of these students weren’t skilled or experienced, but some of them had unnatural power. A result of these 'Crests'. 

The alternative was to overwhelm Dimitri in a group attack, but this was also a bad idea. Doing so would leave students like Marianne vulnerable to the other Blue Lions. That meant the only realistic option would be to pick off the Blue Lions until they could eventually take down Dimitri quickly through numbers. 

The Golden Deer outnumbered them nine versus seven—remove the white mages from combat and it was eight versus six. This Felix person was supposedly going to focus on Byleth. Lorenz would need to continue protecting Marianne. So, who would fight Dimitri? 

...Claude seemed the best choice, but if Byleth were a betting man, he would pick Dimitri to win in a fight between those two. Byleth would have to count on Claude to keep Dimitri busy. Meanwhile, he would have Ignatz focus on distracting Ashe, since Leonie was more versatile in ranged and melee combat and would be better served in a more adaptive role.

That left Hilda, Raphael, and Leonie to handle Dimitri’s remaining three teammates. Lysithea would stay near him and act as support. If they could overwhelm Felix together, they would be able to assist the other students and the fight would snowball from there..

“...When the Blue Lions close in, pick a single opponent and fight." Byleth said. "Ignatz, keep Ashe from interfering. Claude, hold off Dimitri until their numbers wane. I’ll handle Felix. As for the remaining students in their house...” Byleth paused.

“Ah, right, you’re not too familiar with the others yet, are you, Teach?” Claude asked. 

Byleth didn’t respond. 

“Well, if you don’t have any objections, I’m thinking Raphael should face Sylvain, Leonie can face Ingrid, and Hilda will handle Dimitri's retainer, Dedue.” Claude continued.

Byleth, of course, had no objections. He didn’t know who these students were or how well his students would match up. Hilda, however, quickly spoke out against this.

“Wait, you want me to fight DEDUE?! Isn’t he that...really tall man from Duscur? I can’t beat _him_!” Hilda whined. 

Byleth didn’t know the man by name, but based on that description, he knew who they were referring to. If he had to go off appearances alone, Hilda certainly didn’t seem like a good matchup against this Dedue. Byleth would have chosen Raphael. But for now, he chose to trust in Claude’s judgement.

“Don’t worry, you don’t have to beat him, just hold him off.” Claude assured her. “After all, we're going with a defensive strategy, right Teach? Our goal is simply to maintain our numbers advantage.”

“I see, and if the rest of you are facing opponents of equal skill, I can step in and turn the tables by picking them off one by one.” Lysithea added. 

Byleth nodded, pleased to see that his students understood the situation as well as the next logical decision. This was a good sign.

“Mmm, seems a bit complicated.” Raphael grumbled.

“Fight this 'Sylvain' and make sure you aren’t defeated.” Byleth clarified shortly.

“Ahh, now that makes sense!” Raphael smiled.

“Very well, and I shall continue to defend Marianne with my very life.” Lorenz proclaimed. “I swear on my honor as a noble that nothing shall breach my defenses!”

“Right. Unless we ever have to face Edelgard again.” Leonie retorted. 

Before Lorenz could respond, however, an arrow suddenly shot out of the forest and towards the back of Byleth’s head. Byleth had expected this. As he heard the whizzing arrow approaching, he raised his shield behind his head, blocking it without even looking.

“It’s time.” Byleth said. 

Ignatz immediately took position and shot in the direction where the enemy's arrow came from. Byleth scanned the forest perimeter quickly, the Blue Lions had indeed surrounded them. The Golden Deer were thankfully more familiar with their classmates than he was and quickly spread out to attack their designated target. 

Byleth still didn’t know which one was Felix, but Dimitri was headed right his way. Before Dimitri could reach Byleth, however, he ducked back just in time to avoid one of Claude’s arrows.

“Psst, Your Princeliness.” Claude whispered. “You've got a thing for Edelgard, right? Come on, fess up. You'll feel better.”

Dimitri scowled. “Claude, please. This is no time for idle banter. Your defenses are wide open.”

“That didn't get to him, huh? What a shame. I'll find a better way to ruffle him up next time.” Claude chuckled before sending another arrow Dimitri’s way. 

Dimitri closed in and lunged at Claude with his spear, but Claude managed to strafe away in time, only to be flanked by Dedue, who swung his axe downwards, however he, in turn, was blocked by Hilda.

“Hey! Claude, you need to be careful. You should know better than to rely on _me_ to protect you!” Hilda pouted.

“Heh, sorry.” Claude smiled, swapping out his bow with a sword, keeping Dimitri at a distance. 

Byleth raised his eyebrows in mild surprise. He had to admit, he was impressed that Hilda could hold her own against someone like Dedue. She was certainly stronger than she looked. The next moment, however, he felt a tug on his sleeve.

“That’s him, Professor.” Lysithea said pointing. 

Byleth turned to see a man not unlike himself staring back at him. Roughly the same height, blue tinged purple hair tied back into a knot, amber eyes, and scowl on his face. Felix.

Felix said nothing and simply drew his sword. Byleth did the same. The two charged at one another, blades clashing. Byleth noticed that Felix’s sword style wasn’t too dissimilar to his own, focusing primarily on the basics of swordplay with simple but precise blocks and strikes, though instead of trying to overwhelm him with power attacks, Felix was trying to overwhelm him with speed.

Although Felix was certainly a cut above the rest of the students, Byleth could see that, between himself and Felix, he was the stronger of the two. Felix seemed to realize this as well, for when their blades locked again Byleth saw his free hand reach into a pouch. Recognizing what Felix was doing and knowing that he had just dropped his guard, Byleth used his own free hand to punch Felix right in the face.

“Gah!” Felix cried out.

Felix stumbled backwards from the impact of Byleth's punch, but managed to withdraw his hand from the pouch and attempted to toss some gathered dirt into Byleth’s face. Byleth managed to block the attempt with his overcoat just in time and, while Felix was still reeling from Byleth’s attack, Lysithea sent a Miasma spell his way, knocking him clean off his feet.

“Damn you!” Felix spat.

He recognized that taking advantage of his opening like that was strategically sound, but Felix still felt that this white haired brat had cheated him out of a duel with a worthy opponent.

“You fought well.” Byleth said.

“Hmph. I’ll see you again at the training grounds.” Felix responded, leaving the field.

“Go assist Ignatz. I’ll provide aid to Raphael and Leonie.” Byleth said to Lysithea, who nodded. 

As Lysithea headed towards Ignatz’s direction, Byleth glanced towards Claude and Hilda, who were getting overwhelmed but still in the fight, before turning towards Raphael and Leonie who had ended up in a two versus two confrontation between Sylvain and Ingrid. 

Byleth could see that his students were stronger individually, but Sylvain and Ingrid seemed more coordinated. It had been smart of the Blue Lions to team up, but they wouldn’t be a match for the three of them. Byleth made his way towards them and engaged in the fight.

“Woah! Heh, you’re pretty tough, Professor!” Sylvain said, blocking Byleth’s attack with his spear, while hiding his obvious strain behind a smirk. “When this is all done, maybe you can introduce me to—”

“Sylvain watch out!” Ingrid cried in exasperation as she attempted to intervene but was blocked by Leonie.

“OOORRRAAARRGGHHH!!!” Raphael cried, slamming his fists at Sylvain while he was distracted by Byleth. 

The force of Raphael's oversized fists sent Sylvain flying into the air, sliding to the ground as he hit a tree. 

“Hah! Guess I don’t know my own strength!” Raphael laughed.

“Nnnggg...got cocky, I guess....” Sylvain grunted.

“Urgh, Sylvain...” Ingrid sighed.

“Guess we’ll have to meet up some other time, Professor,” Sylvain said with a wink before heading off. 

Byleth and the others turned to Ingrid, who frowned.

“I see there’s no point in sticking this out. I'll have to fall back,” she sighed, sprinting towards the forest where Ashe and Mercedes were.

“Leonie,” Byleth called.

“Got it!” Leonie shouted.

Knowing a simple training arrow wouldn’t be enough to knock Ingrid down, Leonie chucked her training lance, squarely hitting Ingrid in the back.

“Argh!” Ingrid cried out, landing on her face. 

“Ingrid—!” Dimitri called out. 

“I-I’m sorry, Your Highness, I can’t go on...” Ingrid grunted, using her spear to prop herself back up as Jeralt dismissed her.

“Dedue, the situation is worse than I had expected. We must reunite with the others quickly if we are to have any chance of victory.” Dimitri ordered.

“Understood, Your Highness. I will cover you,” Dedue said.

Byleth glanced towards Dimitri, pleased to see that Claude had not only managed to keep Dimitri busy but had also lured him away from the forest where Ashe and Mercedes were hiding. From this distance, it was doubtful that Mercedes' white magic could reach Dimitri or Dedue—not unless she knew Physic, a spell that was surely too advanced for a beginning student.

“Leonie, assist Ignatz and Lysithea. Raphael, with me,” Byleth ordered, rushing towards the others.

“Look out, Teach!” Claude called, as Dimitri charged straight for Byleth.

“Stand down!” Dimitri shouted, slamming his lance at Byleth. 

Byleth blocked this with his sword, but the attack had been far more powerful than expected, sending Byleth skidding back. He stabbed his sword into the dirt to keep himself grounded, but just as Byleth looked up, Dedue had followed up Dimitri's attack, lashing at him with his axe. 

Not having enough time to withdraw his sword, Byleth ducked under Dedue’s swing and slammed his fist into Dedue's stomach. Byleth was stronger than he looked and was able to briefly stun Dedue, but Dedue recovered quickly and swung his axe again. Byleth was just barely able to dodge this and slide between Dedue’s legs, leaving his sword behind.

“Go on, Your Highness!” Dedue called. 

Byleth looked and saw that Dimitri had broken past their defense and was headed towards the forest. But upon hearing Dedue, he stopped and turned around.

“Dedue...” Dimitri paused.

“I will be your shield.” Dedue insisted. 

Dimitri glanced back to the forest momentary before shaking his head and—perhaps against his better judgement—rushed back to aid in the fight. 

“Your Highness!” Dedue protested.

“Teach!” Claude yelled, tossing his own training sword to Byleth, who nodded and caught it while Claude equipped his bow once more. 

Byleth turned to face Dimitri. He would need to handle Blue Lions house leader himself. Despite their appearances, Dimitri was much stronger than Raphael and Raphael didn’t have the prowess to compensate for this difference in strength. Leaving Dedue to the others, Byleth engaged with Dimitri.

“I must say, I’m rather impressed with your leadership.” Dimitri said with a sincere smile. “Despite the disadvantageous position you found yourself in, your house is now clearly favored to win...and I have much to learn.” 

Byleth, however, didn’t return the smile and Dimitri frowned. 

“Ahh, yes, I suppose I should be taking this more seriously. Forgive me.” Dimitri said more seriously as he privately began to wonder...was this new professor truly even human?

Byleth focused all his efforts on prolonging the fight. He didn’t have the strength to confront Dimitri in a head-on assault, but he was definitely the more skilled warrior between the two. 

Even so, Byleth wasn’t sure how he would fare against Dimitri in a real one on one fight. Until now, the only person he knew who could resist the sheer power of his attacks had been Jeralt and unfortunately Jeralt was usually too drunk to train him, which meant he wasn't accustomed to situations like this. 

Still...he was starting to notice a weakness in Dimitri’s fighting style. He was clumsy and impatient. Very impatient. Much like himself, Dimitri was likely accustomed to quickly winning fights against opponents who couldn’t withstand his strength. Byleth had Marianne’s white magic to help him, while Mercedes was too far away to assist Dimitri, and his students were overwhelming the few remaining Blue Lions. 

So long as Byleth could keep stalling the match, victory was assured. And sure enough, it wasn’t long before...

“Ngh!” 

While Dedue had been struggling against Raphael and Hilda, Ignatz and Leonie joined Claude in pelting him with arrows, having already dealt with Ashe and Mercedes. Before Dedue could even regain a bearing on his surroundings, Raphael punched him in the gut and Lysithea knocked him off his feet with a Miasma spell. 

“Apologies, Your Highness,” Dedue grunted, hands pushing himself up to his feet before one wrapped around his stomach. “I can go no further...”

“Dedue...” Dimitri murmured. as the Golden Deer made their way towards his fight with Byleth. 

Dimitri took in his surroundings as the Golden Deer made their way to join their professor. He was completely outnumbered and his distraction had allowed the enemy to pick off the Blue Lions.

 _"Nine to one, hmm? I'm afraid he has us beat."_ Hanneman's voice echoed in Dimitri's head.

"Yes, I'm afraid so." Dimitri admitted reluctantly. "Professor Hanneman agrees that it is time to surrender. Well played, Professor.” 

Dimitri smiled, offering his hand in earnest. Byleth nodded silently, his expression still blank, and shook it, noticing that Dimitri had an unusually tight grip. The next moment he heard Jeralt once again.

_“All right, that’s that! The winner of this mock battle is...the Golden Deer House!”_

Byleth could hear a strong sense of pride in Jeralt's voice, but truthfully Byleth wasn't too impressed with himself at the moment. He had been uncharacteristically arrogant and hadn't prepared for the battle as well as he should have. These students were stronger than Byleth had expected and he was to teach them, he had to grow stronger as well. And with that in mind, Byleth marched back to the monastery without another word, intending to train harder and further hone his skills.

“We...won...?” Marianne whispered.

“W-We won!” Ignatz cried.

“Yeah! All right!” Raphael shouted.

“Great work, everyone!” Claude said. “Even if it is a mock battle, the taste of victory is sugary sweet.”

“Haha, great job Profess...or?” Lysithea glanced around, unable to spot him. "Hey, where is he?"

“Ah! I can see him. Just over there.” Lorenz pointed.

“He’s leaving already?” Leonie asked.

“Talk about antisocial.” Hilda laughed.

“Well we can’t just let him leave without congratulating him. Come on, everyone!” Claude beckoned.

“I knew the professor would pull through for us.” Leonie smiled. Whether he was Captain Jeralt's kid or not, the professor had certainly inherited her mentor's tactical genius.

“Weren’t you getting on his case earlier about Jeralt?” Hilda asked accusingly.

“If I recall, you didn’t exactly give him the vote of confidence yourself.” Claude remarked.

“To think, he was able to lead the charge against _two_ houses.” Ignatz said enthusiastically, who was just happy to play a part in their victory.

“And nobody fell...” Marianne muttered. She wasn’t sure how much good she did, but the professor had protected all of them from harm...even her.

“Indeed. He has far surpassed our expectations and led the way to a perfect victory.” Lorenz chuckled.

“Well _I_ was always confident in his abilities.” Lysithea said with a small trace of smugness in her voice. 

It was true, Lysithea had vouched for her professor from the beginning, despite not knowing who this 'Captain Jeralt' was. Anyone who could become a professor at their age had to be special after all. Still...even found herself impressed at just how competent the professor had been.

Lysithea reflected over the events that transpired. Their professor came to their classroom and had been immediately underestimated by the rest of the class because of his age—much like herself, actually. He had handled it with grace and maturity, never once displaying annoyance of frustration. That was something Lysithea felt she could learn from. Instead, he had quickly established authority over the group and led them to victory through the mock battle. 

The professor had not only shown them his leadership capabilities, but his combat prowess as well, by leading from the front lines. He taught through example—Hubert and Ferdinand being the example of what happened when authority wasn’t respected. And now here they were, her classmates singing his praises. The professor had quickly earned their respect in no time at all...despite his age. 

He was brilliant, strong, mature, hardworking, and had complete control over his emotions...yes this was something Lysithea wanted to emulate very much. He wasn’t just incredible, he was the _perfect_ teacher for her.

“Ha, I told you guys that you'd be amazed.” Claude said with a wink.

Claude had seen Byleth’s power before, back in Remire Village, but even he was amazed by the most recent display. He felt similarly to Lysithea, although he was less interested in him as a teacher and more interested in his allegiance. 

Perhaps their new professor was the one Claude had been looking for...to see his dreams come to fruition.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Scrying and telecommunication are my attempt at marrying gameplay mechanics with the story. In this case, the idea is that mages can use spells to observe the battlefield from a bird's eye view, much like the player does. Meanwhile telecommunication spells are used by mage commanders to pass along orders to their officers.
> 
> In this case, Byleth doesn't use either of these. But they're something I can keep in mind if I ever need to write another battle.
> 
> Oh and we have a new Byleth/Lysithea discord server if anyone wants to join: https://discord.gg/U7VqdcF


	2. First Blood at the Red Canyon (White Clouds: 5/31)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having completed their first assignment, the Golden Deer House have successfully cleared the Red Canyon of bandits. Although the students knew going in this would be their first battle, many did not expect that their new professor would forced them to take life to prepare them for the challenges to come. How will they fare?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was another request to show off Byleth's "Ashen Demon" side, while he's still new as a professor. I kinda covered this in the mock battle retelling, so there was no need to make this chapter long. This was supposed to cover the darker side of Byleth's character. In this case, taking extreme action to prepare his students for the real world of combat.
> 
> Truthfully, this one shot was a bit controversial. I've gotten complaints that Byleth's character isn't dark enough as well as complaints that Byleth character was too dark. Can't please everyone, eh?

**White Clouds**

**Familiar Scenery**

**Day 31 of the Harpstring Moon**

The air was heavy as the Golden Deer House marched from the Red Canyon back to Garreg Mach. Their first real mission, by all accounts, had been a rousing success. They had followed the professor’s directions to the letter and cleared the canyon of bandits without needing any intervention from the Knights of Seiros. Yet If one were to judge based on the atmosphere, it would seem as though they had failed miserably.

For many of the students, this mission against the bandits was the first time they had taken human life, and some were faring better than others. Lorenz had been trained for years in defending his territory, so this was not his first kill. And although Leonie had never killed a person before, she had plenty of experience hunting animals and had witnessed Jeralt kill bandits first hand. Protecting the innocent from these types of people had been something Leonie had been training for her entire life, and she couldn’t have asked for a better first mission.

The others, aside from Claude, had no experience with this sort of thing at all. Lysithea treasured life and killing anyone—even a lowly bandit—wasn’t something she enjoyed doing. But she had braced herself for this. She knew it had to be done and, when the time came, she barely hesitated to obliterate her foe. Marianne was another gentle soul and had a harder time than Lysithea, but with encouragement from her professor, she had been able to cast aside her doubts and perform the deed. 

...Ignatz, however, had not been so lucky.

“Whew, that was...some first mission, eh?” Claude said in his usual cheery tone, as he caught up with the others.

A few of his classmates gave him a passing glance, but nobody responded. Ignatz trembled a little. In such an environment, even Claude’s usual disposition couldn’t thrive, and his smile twitched into a sullen look.

“Sorry, I guess now isn't a good time to try and liven up the mood with banter." Claude sighed quietly. "I’ll admit, Teach was...a bit harsher than I had expected,.”

“A bit?” Leonie snapped.

“Well, he  _ did  _ say we would be expected to kill somebody...” Claude said with an unconvincing light tone.

“Yeah, but I thought he was just encouraging everyone to participate!” Hilda exclaimed. “I had  _ no  _ idea he’d be so serious about the killing part!” 

Hilda, thankfully, had managed to take out a bandit without incident, but she was still a bit shaken with the way she saw her professor treat Ignatz.

“How are you holding up?” Raphael asked Ignatz quietly, his voice lacking its usual high energy. 

Ignatz didn’t respond. He had just recently killed a man at the request of his new professor. He had taken a life. The screams and pleas for mercy were still ringing in his ears.

Many of the students had managed to kill a bandit on their own without instruction, with only Marianne and Ignatz being the exception. 

Marianne was their white mage and didn't focus on combat, so this was expected. Byleth had restrained one of the lone bandits and demanded she kill him then and there. Marianne hesitated, but eventually complied when Byleth reminded her that it was the will of the church. He showed no aggression nor compassion, simply telling his student to kill the man before her and allowing her to pray for his soul once she had finished.

Ignatz hadn’t had it so easy. Although he had no desire to kill, he had nevertheless participated in the mission, avoiding the enemy’s vital areas as he shot his arrows. Eventually, however, one of his arrows had hit a bandit’s leg and it was at that moment that their professor had raised his hand, indicating the students should stop fighting. 

Within seconds, Byleth had decapitated the other nearby bandits, leaving only the bandit with the injured leg alive.

_ “Kill him,”  _ The professor had instructed. 

His voice lacked any hint of empathy or strictness, but it was a command. Ignatz could barely remember what happened then. He only knew that he had panicked at the sight of all the blood, the severed bandit heads, and the bandit kneeling before him, screaming in agony, swearing obscenities as Ignatz struggled to regain his composure and pleaded with his professor. 

Nothing worked. Byleth had been adamant in his desire to see Ignatz kill. But just before Ignatz broke down in tears, another arrow pierced the bandit’s neck. Claude had killed the bandit in his stead, stating it was 'his turn'.

Ignatz remembered that his professor had admonished Claude for this. Byleth had seen Claude kill during their first encounter. Claude had nothing to prove to him. It was Ignatz’s turn to take life. If he couldn't stomach killing a lowly pillaging bandit, then how would he kill a mercenary or an enemy soldier if it came down to that?

After that, Ignatz barely had a few moments to get a hold of himself before Byleth found another bandit. This bandit seemed to recognize Byleth, for he had pleaded for mercy upon seeing him. Byleth ignored this and, with a few swift motions, he winded the bandit and slashed at both of his legs, before pushing him face down in the dirt at Ignatz’s feet.

_ “He's no danger to you now. Kill him,”  _ Byleth instructed again, his tone lacking any sense of emotion. 

The professor wasn't trying to hone Ignatz's skill, he was conditioning him to take human life.

For a moment, Ignatz thought he might have been able to do it...if only the bandit had remained face down. But he didn’t. The bandit had looked up to him and pleaded for his life. Begging, screaming, crying. Ignatz hands shook, struggling to take aim and kill even at point blank range.

_ “I-I’m sorry, I can’t do this!”  _ Ignatz had cried out.

_ “You must,”  _ His professor had responded with his cold, empty voice.  _ “Or you will never become a knight.”  _

And in truth, Ignatz knew the professor had been right. He knew this was a necessary part of knighthood, but before he could resolve himself, the bandit began screaming once more, pleading for his life. This lasted for several minutes, the bandit sobbing and begging while Ignatz tried to steel himself with his classmates simply looking on in horror.

“There is no reason to be so downtrodden, Ignatz,” Lorenz assured him, back in the present. “Those vermin were a threat to the common folk. We’ve done the world a service by being rid of them.”

“You can't be serious.” Leonie said sharply. “The professor went too far with this!” 

Leonie felt ashamed for not speaking up earlier. Raphael had offered to knock the screaming bandit out before Ignatz killed him, but Byleth denied this, stating that Ignatz had to kill the bandit as is. Leonie had remained silent, scared witless by who her professor had become at this moment. Again, she had to ask herself,  _ 'Could he really be Jeralt’s kid?'  _

“Ugh! It’s like he was  _ trying  _ to traumatize his own students!” Leonie cried in exasperation.

“He did what had to be done.” Lysithea said solemnly, her eyes downcast.

“Their deaths were the will of the goddess.” Marianne added in almost a whisper.

“You’re joking, right? You don’t really believe that, do you?” Leonie frowned.

“It is unsettling, but it’s what we came here to do.” Lysithea said with more conviction in her voice. 

She was not without pity towards Ignatz, but surely, he must have expected this when he joined the Officer’s Academy, right? Still, if she was honest with herself, Lysithea had to admit that she too had been a bit unnerved by her professor in that battle. He showed no hesitation when he killed those bandits, and yet neither did he show any sign of thrill or enjoyment like many other warriors did. No, he had casually just marched across the canyon, slaying bandits with so little enthusiasm and care that he may as well has been grocery shopping.

Lysithea shook her head. It wasn’t her professor who was at fault. It was her. She had been too emotional. She killed her opponent, but she did hesitate, even if only for a moment. If her professor hadn't there to defend her, she could have been killed. Lysithea couldn’t afford to hesitate again, not even a little. If anything, her professor was someone to aspire towards, to emulate. 

He wasn’t an emotional weakling like herself or the others, nor was he a brute who relished in bloodshed. He simply did what was necessary and exposed his students to the world they were about to enter. It was harsh, but Ignatz wouldn’t get far in the academy if he couldn’t kill a bandit. That was just the truth of it. She had no time for mercy.

“Lysithea is right,” Claude said. “I’m sure Teach didn’t mean anything malicious from all this. It’s unfortunate, but it’s part of our job as students of the academy. And we won’t have Teach around to protect us forever.”

“The professor’s just trying to toughen us all up, so one day we can handle bad guys like these on our own.” Raphael nodded.

“Hmph. He could have been nicer about it is all I’m saying. ...Hey where is he anyway?” Leonie asked.

“I believe I saw him offering his prayers back at the canyon.” Lorenz said.

“That’s...not likely.” Claude said. “From what Jeralt told us, he’s not exactly a devout follower of the Seiros faith. In fact, he’s had no history with the church up until now.”

“No history with the church? How did he ever get a job teaching here?!” Hilda asked incredulously. “He must have done something  _ really  _ impressive to win Lady Rhea over.”

“He is certainly capable.” Lysithea said with a small smile.

“That said, Teach did look entranced with the canyon back there. I suppose I’ll just have to ask him about it when we get back.” Claude shrugged. “Until then, I suggest everyone brace themselves for what’s to come. Hopefully we won’t find ourselves in a situation like this again.”

The others nodded, but Leonie just crossed her arms. She was never going to forget Ignatz's struggle to kill the suffering bandit before him. It hadn't taken one arrow but three to finally finish him off. It had been hard to watch. 

_ "What would Captain Jeralt have said if he were here?"  _ Leonie pondered to herself as she followed the others back to the monastery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am curious what everyone thinks about Byleth. Was he too dark? Not dark enough? For those wondering, yes, the next chapter is a Lysithea focused one.


	3. Twin Crests (White Clouds: 8/4)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having recovered the Sword of the Creator from the Holy Mausoleum, it is revealed to all that the Mystery Crest Byleth possesses is none other than the Crest of Flames. The entirety of Garreg Mach is abuzz at these recent revelation, but one student in particular is interested in the origin of her professor's Crest...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unlike the previous two, this chapter was not a request. Something that's always kinda bugged me is that in Byleth's B support with Lysithea, she mentions her two Crests to Byleth with no prior context. It isn't done in hushed tones or by accident either, she talks about it so plainly as if she revealed them in a previous support or story event and felt comfortable discussing them around her professor.
> 
> And granted it is likely for gameplay reasons, Hanneman is very open about his interest in Lysithea while Byleth is around, which makes it seem like Byleth fully aware of the situation between them. So, I decided to write something where Lysithea's Crests are properly revealed.

**White Clouds**

**The Gautier Inheritance**

**Day 4 of the Verdant Rain Moon**

It had been a few days since the Western Church invaded Garreg Mach and the Officers Academy had since been abuzz with rumors and activity. In the end, Claude’s belief that Rhea wasn't the target of an assassination attempt ended up being slightly off. Though the Holy Mausoleum had been the primary objective for the Western Church, there had indeed been an attempt on the archbishop’s life.

While the Golden Deer House succeeded in securing the Holy Mausoleum, Garreg Mach Monastery had also been subject to a raid by other members of the Western Church. Thankfully, the Knights of Seiros had been able to apprehend the attackers before they could harm Rhea, Seteth, or Flayn. However many students had been injured during the attack, with some only barely escaping death. Since then, Professor Manuela had been busy tending to the infirmary non-stop and was unavailable to Teach.

As such, the Black Eagle House was temporarily participating in joint lessons, alternating between the Blue Lions House and the Golden Deer House while Professor Hanneman and Professor Byleth substituted for Professor Maneula. During this time, the Black Eagles had been hounding the Golden Deer for details of the events that took place in the Holy Mausoleum. Why was the Western Church interested in Saint Seiros’ remains? What was the supposed Heroes Relic their professor had found? What had the Golden Deer even been doing in Holy Mausoleum in the first place?

Most persistent in this questioning had been Linhardt and, strangely enough, Edelgard. For many students, this had been the first time they had seen Linhardt show passion for anything. He had led the discussion in theorizing what this relic was and trying to determine the mystery crest of their professor, believing the most likely candidates were the lost Crests of Timotheos and Chevalier.

For the first couple of days, these rumors had been just that. Rumors. However, despite Seteth’s attempts to keep things quiet, word sound spread like wildfire that the relic Byleth had found was none other than the Sword of the Creator itself. This led many students to reach the same conclusion: The ‘Mystery Crest’ their professor had possessed was the fabled Crest of Flames. This, of course, started a brand-new set of theories.

Claude’s theory was currently the most accepted, that Byleth was the descendant of Nemesis, the King of Liberation. However, several students expressed their doubts towards this. When Nemesis fell, many of his followers had scoured all of Fodlan, seeking a biological heir. But there was no successor to be found, for Nemesis had borne no children, and so his legitimacy as king died with him.

But even if the history of Nemesis was incorrect and the King of Liberation had secretly sired offspring, why would the Crest of Flames have been missing all this time? Nemesis died roughly a thousand years ago. Surely one of his descendents would have inherited his Crest before now. This led to the second theory: That Byleth had been chosen by the Goddess to bear the Crest of Flames and rise as the second King of Liberation.

Lysithea, however, didn’t consider either of these theories to be likely. Lyisthea and—unbeknownst to her—Edelgard had concocted a third theory. A theory only she would consider. The professor had not been born with the Crest of Flames, rather it had been forcibly implanted. Lysithea knew this was a possibility, for it was the reason she herself bore two Crests. And if this was true...that could only mean the professor was just like her. That he had undergone a similar trauma to herself and lived.

Lysithea couldn’t be sure, of course. It was possible one of the other two theories was correct, or maybe there was a completely different reason that nobody had considered. She had to consider, for example, that her professor’s hair retained turquoise pigment. However that could easily be explained away with the fact that Byleth bore one Crest, not two, and thus his body had not succumbed to the same consequences that Lysithea's had.

The next thing to consider was her professor’s age. If the professor's Crest  _ had  _ been implanted, it only made sense that this had been done by the same group that had conducted their experiments in Ordelia territory. Lysithea remembered that those imperial mages had been particularly keen on using children in their experiments. As far as Lysithea knew, the professor was roughly the same age as her and the others, so he would have made for an appropriate candidate.

Whatever the case, their professor certainly didn’t seem to be enjoying all the attention. Lysithea recalled once seeing him in the library, constantly distracted by curious students wanting to question Byleth about his Crest and history.

In truth all the questions had been a distraction for Lysithea too. Seeing this, Byleth had admonished the others for disrupting the library and left. Their professor was usually so calm, and this was the first time Lysithea had ever seen him show signs of agitation.

At the moment, the Golden Deer House and Black Eagle House had assembled in the training grounds for a joint training exercise. While they waited for Byleth to show, the students continued on gabbing about their professor’s Crest and the Sword of the Creator he finally arrived.

“I’m sorry for the delay, Professor Hanneman held me up,” Byleth said, approaching the students. “Before we begin, I’ve been getting a number of requests from students who wished to see the Heroes Relic." He sighed and, with a sense of reluctance in his voice continued. "So I’ve decided to give you all the opportunity now to avoid further distraction.” 

The students began clamoring towards Byleth as he unsheathed the Sword of the Creator and held it out to the first student—Claude.

“Oof! Heavier than it looks!” Claude exclaimed as he grabbed onto it. “How do you swing this thing, Teach?”

“Lemme see that.” Raphael said, taking the sword from Claude. “...Woah! This thing weighs a ton!” 

Lysithea's eyes widened, watching as Raphael visibly struggled to keep the sword steady in both hands.

“Do you really carry this thing around all day? Hahaha! No wonder you’re so strong, Professor!" Raphael laughed. "Here, do you wanna try?”

“Keep that thing away from me!” Bernadetta shrieked, cowering in fear as Raphael offered her the sword.

“Allow me.” Ferdinand said with a confident smile, taking the sword from Raphael; he grunted softly once he had the sword in his grip. “Ah! Yes...it is certainly heavier than its appearance would suggest.”

Once he felt he had a secure enough grasp on the sword’s hilt, Ferdinand began to swing it about rather clumsily, thrown off by its sheer height and weight.

“I would rather you didn’t swing it.” Byleth said firmly.

“Do not worry yourself, Professor.” Ferdinand said. “It is nothing that can’t be handled by a true noble—”

“Whoa, watch it, Ferdinand!” Hilda cried out as Ferdinand swung the sword dangerously close in her direction and began to stumble.

“Enough, Ferdinand.” Edelgard said, grabbing his wrist and stopping him mid-swing.

“Edelgard I—” Ferdinand began.

“The professor instructed you to stop. Had you continued with your reckless behavior, you could have impaled someone.” Edelgard said sternly, taking the sword from his hands.

“Yes, I apologize. But Edelgard, you should be careful. The sword is—” Ferdinand paused, noticing that Edelgard was effortlessly holding the blade with just one hand.

“Hmm...” Edelgard hummed to herself.

She held the sword up to her face, examining the hilt closely before giving it a couple of swings, handling it as gracefully as Byleth did. However, unlike Byleth, Edelgard could not make the sword glow red...nor did she expect to. 

“Interesting...” She continued, though her face was one of displeasure. 

Edelgard turned and offered the sword to Lysithea. Lysithea braced herself for an intense weight and grabbed the sword with both hands—

“Agh!” 

The sword was indeed much heavier than she could have anticipated. Even with two hands, she found herself losing balance and landed face first onto the floor. 

“Ugh...” Lysithea moaned, rubbing her face as several of the students laughed.

“Are you OK?” Byleth asked, trying to show concern but retaining his monotone voice, as he knelt beside her and offered his hand.

“I’m fine. Thanks.” Lysithea mumbled shyly, accepting his hand as he helped her to her feet. 

Just how was the professor and Edelgard able to wield something so heavy?

“'Interesting’—oof—is an accurate way of putting it,” Linhardt said, stumbling as he tried to lift the sword.

“I got it!” Caspar said, helping Linhardt lift the relic.

“Hmm…I wonder if this is the relic’s way of resisting anyone without the proper Crest?” Lindhardt pondered aloud. “Are you planning to use this sword in our training, Professor?”

“Of course not.” Byleth said sternly. “I wouldn’t use such a weapon against a student.”

“While it would be foolish to use a Heroes Relic so recklessly, surely you don’t intend to leave it gathering dust.” Edelgard said in a scolding tone.

“She’s got a point, Teach.” Claude added. “How can you expect to master the Sword of the Creator if you don’t practice?”

“I will use it during missions. In the meantime, I plan to train with Catherine when she’s available.” Byleth said, turning to Linhardt, “Now pass it along.” 

Linhardt sighed and offered it to Hubert who sneered and, in turn, passed it to Lorenz.

“Hmm...I notice the Crest Stone is missing.” Linhardt mused quietly, once he turned back.

Lysithea’s ears perked up and her eyes turned back to the sword. She hadn’t noticed it at first, but looking at it now, it was clear that Linhardt was right. The Sword of the Creator was indeed missing its Crest Stone, leaving an obvious hole where it should have been.

The missing Crest Stone might explain why the relic felt so heavy. Even if Lysithea didn’t hold a compatible Crest, simply bearing  _ any  _ Crest would normally allow someone to wield a relic. But a Crest Stone was the source of a relic’s power. Linhardt knew this, Lysithea knew this. She wondered if Professor Hanneman was aware that the Sword of the Creator was missing this crucial piece?

“Due to our current situation, we will take this opportunity to hold another mock battle as our training activity.” Byleth said, once the students finished passing the Sword of the Creator around. “The Black Eagles will face the Golden Deer. Training weapons and basic spells only.”

“Will you be participating, Professor?” Edelgard asked earnestly.

“That wouldn’t be fair.” Byleth pointed out, shaking his head. “I’ll be sitting this one out.”

“How unfortunate.” Edelgard sighed. “I was eager to see the power of your Crest in action. I hope you don’t regret this decision when your house is crushed. We have improved significantly since the start of term.” 

Edelgard smirked playfully.

“I look forward to seeing your progress.” Byleth replied. “Each house has 10 minutes to plan their formations and settle on a strategy. Good luck.”

As the Golden Deer gathered to discuss tactics, Lysithea’s mind began to uncharacteristically wander once again. Usually she was so focused and would have been more involved in a strategic discussion, but she was thinking back to the professor's fight against that mage from the Western Church.

The Sword of the Creator had glowed red then. There was no doubt about it. But without the Crest Stone, where was the power coming from? What was the source? The professor himself? That had to be it. Somehow, Byleth was channeling power into the sword. But if he could do that, then his Crest couldn't be normal.

The Crest of Flames was unusual in itself, but in the professor’s case there was something  _ particularly  _ unusual about it. Something that allowed him to use a relic without a Crest Stone. This only strengthened Lysithea’s belief that the professor’s Crest wasn’t natural. He must have been part of an experiment just like her. Perhaps the people who conducted the experiment on him were in possession of his relic’s Crest Stone now? 

Surely it wasn’t a coincidence.

* * *

The mock battle concluded in victory for the Black Eagles. While the Golden Deer had managed to hold their own, it was still a clear defeat on their side and a demoralizing one at that. There was a lot of blame to go around, particularly for Claude, who had been leading them. Lorenz especially had been verbal with his criticisms, though he had hardly cooperated during the battle himself.

Raphael had gotten his share of criticism too for failing to understand Claude’s instructions. However, if Lysithea was being fair, she had to admit that even she had a bit of trouble following their house leader's complicated orders. Claude, despite his lack of effort, had always done well in their strategy and tactics lessons, so why had he performed so poorly this time?

Leonie blamed their failure on an overreliance on the professor. Whether that was true or not, it didn’t do much to raise the Golden Deer’s spirits, many of whom were beginning to feel that they were imcompetent on their own.

Lysithea sighed as she took another bite of her pheasant. She couldn't help but place part of the blame on herself for being so distracted during the strategy discussion. Lysithea didn’t know why it mattered to her so much whether her professor had an implanted Crest or not...but it did. She was dying of curiosity.

“Are you quite alright, Lysithea?” Hanneman asked, hearing her sigh from across the table.

“I’m fine, Professor Hanneman.” Lysithea said shortly. 

Hanneman had invited her to join him in the dining hall for lunch that day. Normally she would have made an excuse to refuse him, but supposedly he had invited the professor to join them as well. Lysithea knew perfectly well what topic Hanneman wanted to discuss with them and that’s exactly why she would have avoided the invitation under ordinary circumstances...

But there was a small possibility that she might overhear something interesting regarding her professor's Crest during their discussion with Hanneman. Something that might confirm her suspicions about him. For this she was willing to deal with the discomfort of Hanneman. So far, however, her professor hadn’t joined them. She eyed his unattended plate of pheasant sadly.

“I do hope he’ll join us.” Hanneman muttered, noticing her staring.

“Hope?” Lysithea repeated. “You mean you don't know if he’s coming?” 

She really didn’t want to be eating alone with Hanneman, it looked...weird.

“I couldn’t find him.” Hanneman admitted. “I get the strange feeling that your professor has been avoiding contact with me as of late. I fear I may have done something to offend him.” 

Lysithea snorted derisively at Hanneman's confusion, but it was at that moment that she noticed her professor entering the dining hall. Lysithea caught his eye and Byleth made way to their table to join them.

“Ah, Professor! Pleased you could make it.” Hanneman said brightly. “I see young Cyril was able to find you then? You've become quite difficult to track.”

“Thank you for inviting me.” Byleth said flatly, choosing not to address the fact that he had, in fact, been hiding from Hanneman. 

Incidentally, the only reason Byleth had accepted the invitation was because Cyril mentioned Lysithea was going to be there as well. It would have been rude to reject a meal with his student.

“I have to say, it’s very exciting to have an opportunity to dine with such company.” Hanneman said cheerfully. “The two of you are quite an interesting pair, wouldn't you say? Both anomalies in the field of Cr—" 

Hanneman felt a tug on his arm as Lysithea glared daggers at him. He had sworn to her that he wouldn't reveal her secret.

“—ahem, that is to say you’re both very talented individuals." Hanneman corrected himself. "The Officers Academy's youngest student  _ and  _ youngest professor. Forgive me, Professor, but how old are you again?”

Lysithea could see that Hanneman was wasting no time in attempting to subtly pry information from her professor.

“I prefer not to say.” Byleth said.

“Come now, Professor, there’s no need to be so guarded about our age.” Hanneman chuckled. “I suppose you would only be a few years older than Lysithea here, is that correct?”

“Probably.” Byleth responded shortly, digging into his food. 

Seeing that Byleth was busy eating and unlikely to cooperate further, Hanneman instead turned his attention to Lysithea.

“And how are you, Lysithea? Any...interesting developments as of late?” Hanneman asked.

“I’m fine, Professor Hanneman.” Lysithea repeated, her annoyance rising. 

Hanneman had only just checked on her wellbeing a few moments ago. Even if he did mean well, she hated being doted on.

“I notice you have been excelling in your studies. Peerless results in all fields of magic. No doubt thanks to your Cr—competent professor.” Hanneman corrected himself. 

Lysithea frowned. Was it really too much for him to at least acknowledge the effort she had put in? Byleth, however, shook his head.

“I can’t take credit.” Byleth said. “I know little magic and have only taught Lysithea battle tactics so far.”

“Is that right?” Hanneman said with a raised eyebrow. “I suppose that only makes her current progress all the more impressive. Still, I wonder Lysithea, have you considered transferring classes? If you need assistance in magic, I would be more than happy to—”

“I’m fine where I am.” Lysithea said firmly. 

Byleth raised his eyebrows in surprise at her loyalty. Deep down, he had been worried for some time that he wasn’t truly qualified to be Lysithea’s professor. 

Since coming to Garreg Mach, Byleth had been working tirelessly to grasp the subject of magic so he would be better prepared to teach Marianne, Lorenz, and Lysithea. Byleth felt that, with enough effort, he would eventually reach a deep enough understanding of magic to properly teach Marianne and Lorenz. 

Lysithea, however, was a different story altogether. Not only was she brilliant, but Byleth soon came to realize that unlike his other students, Lysithea was putting in just as much effort as he was. Byleth admired her for it, but that also meant it was very unlikely that he would ever catch up to her. 

Byleth glanced back to Lysithea and saw that Hanneman was fussing over her once again.

“Lysithea, do you like this kind of food? How is the seasoning? Is it hot enough?” Hanneman asked with a touch of concern in his voice.

“Hey. The professor is right here,” Lysithea snipped quietly. “Can you stop paying me so much attention? Thanks.” 

“I was unaware you two were so close.” Byleth said in mild surprise.

“We absolutely are  _ not  _ close!” Lysithea exclaimed indignantly. “Nothing could be further from the truth.”

“There’s no need to be so distant, Lysithea,” Hanneman said dispiritedly. 

Byleth frowned. Lysithea claimed she wasn’t close to Hanneman, and yet they seemed to know each other reasonably well considering he wasn’t even her homeroom professor. Byleth wondered...had Lysithea been studying magic with Hanneman in private to make up for her own professor’s ineptitude with the subject?

Now that he thought about it, Byleth was becoming increasingly self-conscious of the fact that he was the only homeroom professor who wasn’t proficient in magic. To his shame, he often relied on his students, particularly Lysithea, to assist him in matters that involved magic, such as using communication spells to call the Golden Deer who were spread out across the monastery. The fact that Lysithea wanted to stay in Byleth’s class despite this only made him want to work harder to understand magic for her sake.

“Professor, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask.” Hanneman said.

“Very well. Ask.” Byleth said, hiding any trace of annoyance behind his monotone voice.

“I was wondering, do you hold any records of your ancestry?” Hanneman questioned.

“Not that I’m aware.” Byleth said.

“I see.” Hanneman frowned. “Perhaps you could confirm something, then?”

“What is it?”

“Your name is Byleth Eisner, and you were born to Jeralt Eisner, correct?” Hanneman inquired. 

Byleth noticed Lysithea was staring at him with interest. He suddenly realized that he had never formally introduced himself to any of his students or told them his name, hence why he was commonly called ‘Professor’ instead of ‘Professor Byleth’.

“That's what they say.” Byleth said.

“Pardon?” Hanneman said, eyebrows rising. “You mean to tell me you’re unsure of your heritage?” 

Byleth didn’t respond. Lysithea felt a sense of restrained annoyance coming from her professor...it seemed he didn’t enjoy discussing his past any more than she did.

“I see.” Hanneman said quietly, accepting Byleth’s silence as confirmation. “Then please, tell me about your mother.”

“No.” Byleth said firmly.

“I-I...forgive me, I was unaware that I was touching on a sensitive subject.” Hanneman stuttered, taken aback.

“She died shortly after I was born. I don’t remember her.”

“Ah! I see... Very interesting.” Hanneman said thoughtfully, stroking his goatee.

“Interesting?” Lysithea repeated, with slight irritation. "Is that what you think?" 

'Interesting' certainly wasn’t the word she would have used to describe someone’s deceased mother.

“Indeed, I do.” Hanneman insisted. “I do wonder, Professor, if it’s sheer coincidence that so much of your heritage is hidden from you.”

“You would be better off asking my father such questions.” Byleth said.

“Ah! An excellent idea!” Hanneman said, his enthusiasm showing in earnest. “Might you know where I could find him?”

“I spoke to him at the cemetery earlier.” Byleth said distantly. 

Byleth had originally intended to ask Jeralt if he knew anything about the Crest that Byleth had supposedly inherited, but had forgotten all about that when Jeralt brought up his mother.  _ Was  _ it a coincidence that Jeralt had chosen now of all times to speak of her? Perhaps Byleth had inherited his Crest from this 'Sitri'? For the time being, he chose to keep this to himself.

“Wonderful!” Hanneman said jubilantly. “I shall take my leave then. Enjoy the meal, you two.” 

And with that, Hanneman promptly rose from his seat and made his way out of the dining hall, leaving his half-eaten pheasant behind. Byleth and Lysithea stared at each other in awkward silence.

“...I apologize for Professor Hanneman’s behavior.” Lysithea said timidly after a moment's pause.

“It’s not your fault.” 

This was technically true, but Lysithea still felt guilty for accepting Hanneman’s invitation. She had wanted to learn more of Byleth’s condition but hadn’t anticipated how awkward it would be. Her professor was always so cool and level headed, she didn’t expect him to show such reservation at being questioned.

“Still, I know he can be a bit...invasive at times.” Lysithea sighed.

“You speak from experience,” Byleth noted.

Lysithea winced slightly, recognizing that Byleth wasn't asking her, but making an observation.

“Um, well...” Lysithea hesitated for a moment, unsure how to continue. “...You see, I bear a Major Crest of Gloucester. Major Crests are quite rare, even among the nobility, and Hanneman has shown a keen interest in it.”

“Gloucester...” Byleth repeated.

“Yes. The Crest originated from House Gloucester, Lorenz’s family.” Lysithea said.

“Are you related?”

“In a manner of speaking. It’s not uncommon for Alliance nobles to marry for political reasons.” Lysithea said distastefully.

The reality was that nobles from the Alliance Roundtable had a particular habit of wedding into other roundtable families, to the point that they were getting dangerously close to inbreeding. In fact, if Lysithea had retained her original hair color, she might have passed for Hilda's younger sister. There was another moment of quiet.

“You seem troubled.” Byleth frowned.

“Huh? Oh! I’m fine. Perfectly fine! No need to worry.” Lysithea said unconvincingly.

“Lysithea...”

Lysithea sighed, clearly her professor could see right through her.

“...Well, um...I was just feeling disappointed about our mock battle.” Lysithea mumbled.

Although this wasn't the main issue on Lysithea's mind, it was only a partial lie. Losing to the Black Eagles on their own had certainly dispirited the class.

“We really let you down, didn’t we, Professor?” Lysithea sighed. 

Byleth simply shook his head.

“Part of the blame is mine.” He admitted. “I let rely too heavily on me for guidance during battle. You should be able to rely on each other when I’m not around.”

“That is true.” Lysithea said. “But still, it's a bit odd. I thought we were better trained than the Black Eagles and yet...”

“Compared to your opponets, you were uncoordinated and poorly organized.” Byleth said. 

Lysithea was taken aback but his bluntness, but nodded in agreement. Most students would have felt put off by such criticism, but Lysithea appreciated her professor’s brutal honesty. It was constructive...and made her feel more like an adult.

“You’re right.” Lysithea admitted. “And here I thought we had improved so much since the first mock battle.”

“A change in leadership can be disruptive.” Byleth pointed out.

“Hmmm, you do raise a good point.” Lysithea said thoughtfully. “We are so used to taking orders from you, Professor, that we’ve never adjusted to Claude’s leadership.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t take leadership.”

“...You...think  _ I _ should have led our class?” Lysithea asked in astonishment.

“Of course.”

“But surely Claude is more qualified. He  _ is  _ house leader after all.” Lysithea said, her eyes widening. “Not to mention his high grades in tactics—despite his slacking off.”

“True. Between Claude, Ignatz, and yourself, the three of you are my best students when it comes to battle tactics.” Byleth said. “However, you have different strengths.”

“What do you mean?” Lysithea asked.

“Claude’s best at strategy. He thinks of the long-term battle.” Byleth said. “But you are quick thinking and better suited to making logical decisions on the spot. In that sense, your strengths align more closely to my own.”

Lysithea paused a moment, considering his words, before her eyes lit up with excitement.

“Oh, I get it!” Lysithea exclaimed. “So, Claude does the planning and you carry out the plans through your command, huh? ...How did I never pick up on that?”

“I was wondering that myself.” Byleth said, with a raised eyebrow. “Between yourself and Claude, I thought one of you would have addressed this."

“Oh umm...” Lysithea shrank slightly, unsure how to respond. 

Lysithea realized that it was likely that she hadn't considered this because she had been preoccupied by her thoughts. Once again, she couldn't help but feel as though she had failed to meet her professor’s expectations.

“You seemed distracted.” Byleth accused.

“I  _ have  _ had a lot on my mind lately.” Lysithea admitted sheepishly.

“You’re usually so focused.” Byleth frowned. “Is something bothering you?”

“Well I’ve been thinking lately...about your Crest.” 

Silence followed these words. Lysithea looked up and saw a subtle change in her professor’s expression, but she couldn’t tell what it was. Was he angry? No. That didn’t seem to be it, there was no furrowed brow or any other obvious indicator. Was he saddened? That didn’t seem to be it either, his expression was too hardened to be a look of sadness. What then?

“...I see.” Byleth finally said. 

It was quiet again. At this point, Lysithea didn't know what to say. Was the professor waiting for her to ask her inevitable questions? Perhaps he wanted to drop the subject altogether and move on? Or maybe...he was just as confused as she was? Whatever the case, the tension between them was starting to become palpable. She had already brought up his Crest, so she may as well ask.

“Professor?”

“Yes?”

“About your Crest...I wanted to know..." Lysithea hesitated for a moment. "How did you acquire it? Um, I mean...is there anything you can tell me about yourself?”

“Acquire it...” Byleth repeated, before shaking it his head. “Sorry. I prefer not to discuss my past.” 

Lysithea nodded, she could relate to this feeling. However—

“I need to give a seminar soon. I enjoyed the food. Thank you for the invitation.” 

Before she could even speak, Byleth rose from his seat and left the dining hall without another word.

Lysithea sighed dejectedly, wondering if she had upset him. Not that she could blame the professor if that were the case. He didn’t know her story. He didn’t understand why she felt she needed to know these things. To him, she probably just looked like another nosy meddler, pestering him for answers that she frankly had no business knowing. Lysithea paused for a moment as realization hit her...

All this time, Lysithea had been hoping to find answers on her professor, hoping to find someone who she could truly relate to. Someone who could understand her problems. And yet she hadn’t once considered how her professor had been feeling. They were both extreme rarities in the field of Crestology, and while Lysithea didn’t know what health issues the professor may or may not be facing as a result of his Crest, she did know that  _ her  _ condition was, at least, a secret.

Meanwhile her poor professor was being gawked like an anomaly, constantly questioned by meddlesome students—such as herself—treated like a test subject by Hanneman, and never given a moment of peace. This was the whole reason Lysithea kept her Crests a secret, after all. 

Even if her professor didn't understand the full situation, Lysithea did...and she needed to set things right.

* * *

Some time later, Lysithea finally plucked up the courage to confront the professor about the truth of her Crests. She stood before his office door anxiously, hesitating a moment before knocking.

_ Knock knock knock. _

At first, there was no answer. A small part of Lysithea hoped that her professor wasn’t back yet, since she still wasn’t sure if she was ready to speak to him about this. However, after a few moments, a reply came.

“Come in.”

Lysithea swallowed and nervously opened the door, stepping inside the professor’s room. Byleth was sitting at his desk, glancing up from a book as she entered.

“How may I help you, Lysithea?” Byleth asked.

Was Byleth still upset about before? He didn’t seem to be. But his expression was always so blank and his tone so flat that it was nearly impossible to tell.

“I-I just came to...” Lysithea paused, glancing around the room nervously, trying to think of a way to segue into a discussion about her Crests.

“You don’t need to apologize.” Byleth said, reading her expression.

“...Oh? You’re...not upset?” Lysithea asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Only a little. But it’s not your fault. I don’t feel comfortable talking about myself, but you didn’t know that.” Byleth assured her. 

“I see...”

Lysithea glanced to the side guiltily. While that was true, Lysithea felt she ought to have guessed that was the case. After all,  _ she _ didn’t like to talk about herself either. At least not about anything relating to her past.

Suddenly, Lysithea noticed a heap of books on her professor’s desk. 

“That’s quite a stack of books you have there, Professor.” Lysithea said, recognizing many of the covers. “Wait...are you studying magic?”

“I am.”

“I had been searching for some of these." Lysithea said, picking up one of the books. "Tomas did mention that they were checked out, but I thought Annette must have taken them.”

“Sorry. Did you come here to borrow these books for your studies?” Byleth asked. 

Lysithea shook her head.

“No. The truth is, I...” Lysithea sighed, there was no point in beating around the bush. “...I came to talk about Crests again.” 

Byleth stared at her intently but gave no emotional response. 

“My Crests, specifically.” Lysithea added.

“Your Major Crest of Gloucester?”

“ _ Crests  _ , Professor.” Lysithea said, highlighting the plural use. “I...actually have two of them. A Major Crest of Gloucester and...a Minor Crest of Charon.” 

Lysithea paused a moment, gauging her professor’s response. But to her surprise, he didn’t react to this at all.

“That’s why Professor Hanneman is so interested in me.” She clarified.

“Is having multiple Crests considered unusual?” Byleth asked in a puzzled tone. 

Lysithea’s eyes widened. She couldn’t believe her professor was asking such a question. Rumors had spread that Byleth had an isolated life prior to the academy, but Lysithea never realized how isolated that must have been.

“Professor having two Crests...it’s...” 

Lysithea wasn’t sure how to explain it; her frazzled hands shivering slightly in her strained attempt at organizing her thoughts. 

“It defies everything we know about Crestology." Lysithea explained. "It’s impossible to have two—I mean...I’m the only person in Fodlan's history who has been known to possess twin Crests. But please, keep it a secret, OK?”

Byleth nodded, but was clearly confused.

“You told Professor Hanneman about your Crests?” Byleth asked.

“No.” Lysithea shook her head. “I have no idea how he found out. My Crests were never reported. But he discovered them somehow. So now I’m forced to participate in his research.”

Lysithea sighed.

“I’ll put a stop to it,” Byleth said calmly, but firmly as he rose from his chair.

“Professor, wait!” Lysithea exclaimed, eyes wide and hands thrown up protectively. “You can’t do that!”

Pausing, Byleth frowned and quirked a brow down at her.

“Why not?”

“Because, if I don’t participate in his research, he’ll... h-he’ll reveal my secret,” Lysithea muttered reluctantly.

Byleth considered her for a moment.

“...And you don’t want to be in the same position I’m in now.” Byleth said, placing a hand to his chin. 

Lysithea nodded, pleased that he understood.

“It’s not as bad as it sounds.” Lysithea assured him, noticing that her professor looked uncharacteristically angry. “Professor Hanneman is putting himself at great personal risk by keeping my secret. If anyone were to find out, he could lose more than his job.” 

Byleth grimaced, no matter how Lysithea worded it, it sounded like blackmail to him.

“Are you sure?” Byleth asked.

“Don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself.” Lysithea insisted. 

Byleth nodded hesitantly, accepting her judgement, to which Lysithea was grateful.

“If you don’t want to intervene, why are you telling me this?” Byleth asked uncertainly.

“I just thought you should know, Professor.” Lysithea said shyly. “That...you’re not alone in this.”

Byleth was still confused. Was this...Lysithea's odd way of trying to cheer him up? Why would he feel  _ better _ knowing that one of his students was dealing with the same hardships as himself? If anything, it made him feel a bit angry.

...And yet, as Byleth reflected on these feelings, he couldn't help but notice that, in addition to his anger, he felt a sense of...comfort. Was it really possible that he was drawing comfort from Lysithea's pain? No, it was as though they were  _ sharing _ the pain. Lysithea was carrying this burden with him, which made the weight of his hardship more bearable.

There was someone else who understood how he was feeling and...it made Byleth feel less alone. Was that why Lysithea had confided her secret to him? To ease the sense of loneliness?

Yes, that was certainly the case. Byleth shook his head. He didn't understand why Lysithea was always acting so kindly towards him, but he was grateful all the same.

“Thank you, Lysithea.” Byleth said gently.

“No problem.” Lysithea responded. “Anyway, I think I’m going to go train before next period. I’ll see you in class, Professor!”

“...Lysithea, wait.” Byleth called as she headed out the door.

“Hm?” Lysithea glanced back.

“Perhaps I can assist you in your training.” Byleth offered.

“Are you sure about that, Professor?” Lysithea asked, somewhat doubting that he—or anyone—could have possibly learned enough magic in a short period of time to catch up to her.

“I can’t teach you any spells.” Byleth admitted. “But I have enough experience fighting mages to help you better utilize your magic in combat.”

“Hmm, sounds interesting.” Lysithea said brightly. 

She had never considered training with someone who didn't know magic, but getting an insight on the professor's combat experience could certainly prove to be useful...and it was something she couldn't learn from a book.

“Shall we be going then?” Lysithea asked. 

Byleth nodded and the two made their way to the training grounds. As they did so, Byleth's mind turned to Hanneman again. Despite Lysithea's reassurance, he still didn't feel comfortable about the situation between the two of them...but it seemed there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Still, now that Byleth knew of Lysithea's predicament, the least he could do was offer Hanneman his unfettered cooperation towards his research on the Crest of Flames. If Hanneman spent more time with Byleth, hopefully that would take some pressure off Lysithea.

...Little did Byleth know, Lysithea was thinking of doing the exact same thing for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have two new chapters planned. Assuming I don't get any sudden requests, these next chapters should also be in chronological order.


	4. Tea Time with Lorenz (White Clouds: 9/27)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After rescuing Flayn from the clutches of the Death Knight, Byleth takes the opportunity to further bond with his students. Tea time with Lorenz develops into a discussion of Fodlan's nobility and a surprising lesson in diplomacy from the normally aloof professor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit to QueenFighterfly for assisting me in writing this. I had previously been requested to write some of Byleth's discussions with other characters during tea time to better get an idea of their dynamic and perhaps explore Byleth's opinion on Fodlan as a whole. I had written three of them (Lorenz, Edelgard, and Ignatz) without initially intending to post them. As such they were all woefully incomplete.
> 
> With QueenFighterfly's help, I was able to bring this one to a completed state. It's short, but I hope you enjoy!

**White Clouds**

**Rumors of a Reaper**

**Day 27 of the Horsebow Moon**

It had been a little over a week since the Golden Deer House had, once again, come face to face with the Death Knight. The reward for their little encounter had been the safe return of Flayn and an unknown girl named Monica. Flayn's rescue, in turn, resulted in her addition to the Golden Deer House. 

In appreciation of his student's hard work and, in light of their newest addition, Byleth had given his students the week off so that Flayn would have time to catch up on study material.

Despite their success in rescuing Flayn, their victory had not come easily. Byleth and his students had been greatly overwhelmed by the unanticipated legion the Death Knight had gathered beneath the monastery. And when it came time to face the Death Knight himself, Byleth had been unable to defeat him, even with the fabled Sword of the Creator in hand. 

It was only because of the students, their new-found discipline, and their remarkable growth that Byleth had even been able to face the Death Knight in lone combat without interference from the latter's cohorts. And even then, had it not been for Lysithea's impeccable intervention with her new spell, Dark Spikes, the Death Knight would have likely gotten the better of him.

Normally, Byleth would have been disappointed at his own failure and disciplined himself with non-stop training to rectify his weakness, but instead he had chosen to spend this week bonding with his students to the best of his ability. Byleth was proud of his students and his only regret wasn't that the Death Knight had escaped, but that he wasn't capable of emotionally showing the depth of this pride.

And so here he was, enjoying tea time with Lorenz. Byleth took another sip of tea, carefully minding his manners so he didn’t sip too quickly or lean his elbows on the table and he was always keeping an eye on Lorenz just as Edelgard had instructed him. Byleth had gotten his new tea set about a month ago, but this was the first time he had enjoyed tea with Lorenz.

Lorenz had particularly high-class standards, even among the nobles, and although Byleth normally wasn’t the type to fuss about his appearance or how he was perceived, he still hoped to enjoy his tea without somehow offending his student.

Until now, Byleth had only enjoyed tea with two other students. Edelgard had been the first and she was the one who taught him the tea time etiquette. Basic table manners, discussing subjects his partner would find interesting, and remembering to focus on his partner, to give them the impression that they were interesting.

Unfortunately, due to his upbringing, Byleth's etiquette still wasn’t perfect. He tended to slouch and his mannerisms were unusually feminine, having copied most of his behavior by observing Edelgard and Lysithea. And he had never quite managed to get a handle on his ravenous appetite—another bad habit he had gotten from Lysithea. In fact, he was still stuffing his face with several treats while listening to Lorenz go on about Fodlan’s noble system.

“—and while I will admit the system can be unfair at times...” Lorenz continued, eyes briefly casting down to his cup of tea. “...it is through Crests that legitimacy can be well maintained within the nobility and bloodshed is avoided.” 

Remembering that it was rude to speak with a full mouth, Byleth waited a moment to finish chewing his cake before responding.

“I see.” Byleth took a slow, indifferent sip of his tea, nodding in understanding. “So, nobles can't kill family members and rise up the ranks in succession. Once a child is born with a Crest, they are made heir to that house and no more children are born.”

“You are getting to the heart of it. I knew  _ you  _ would understand, Professor,” Lorenz chuckled with approval, though his smile deflated slightly into something a bit more serious. “However, while this is the general custom among noble houses, it is not a strict rule. Military houses, such as House Goneril, will often try to bear multiple children with Crests. A secondary heir is necessary when the first born is at greater risk of falling in combat”

“That would be Hilda, then?" Byleth said, clarifying. "Not the heir to her house, but too important to be cast out in favor of her brother.” 

“Indeed.” A small, amused smile rose again on Lorenz’s face as his eyes glanced over the tower of snacks Byleth had brought, carefully skimming between them. “A most favorable situation for our dear Hilda. Lord Holst is strong and unlikely to fall in battle, which grants her a life of luxury with little responsibility. Many nobles would find themselves quite envious at her situation.” 

“And what of you, Lorenz? None of your siblings bear Crests?” Byleth asked, his tone not so much indifferent as distantly curious.

“An only child, actually,” Lorenz corrected with a shake of his head. “My father was quite fortunate to produce a Crested heir the first time around.”

“And if you were to fall in battle? What would become of House Gloucester?” Byleth asked.

“Were I to fall and my father was unable to produce another heir, he would be forced to hand pick the closest known relative bearing a Crest of Gloucester. Hmmm..." Lorenz pondered for a moment. "Why it might even be Lysithea. Although the others at the Alliance Roundtable would surely object to granting an individual inheritance over two Great Houses.”

“And I suppose this is part of the politics between noble marriage?" Byleth said. "You can’t marry another heir, but marrying a noble is encouraged so that their Crest can be restored through your house's bloodline if needed?” 

“My my, you catch on quickly, Professor. I’m impressed.” Lorenz chuckled softly, resting his cheek in his hand thoughtfully. “You are mostly correct. It is frowned upon—though not forbidden—to marry the heir to another house. However, so long as said house has another suitable heir and the Alliance Roundtable permits it, two heirs belonging to houses of equal status may be wed into the groom’s house.” 

Byleth frowned. The concept of marriage within the nobility sounded so...dispassionate to him. Was this how his students would live their lives? Being pawned off by their parents as part of some greater political business deal by the Alliance nobles? Of course he was hardly in a position to judge, as Byleth himself didn't understand the first thing about romance.

“And yes, in addition, marrying between families allows the nobility to maintain the strength of their Crest-bearing blood, while also preserving Crests in the event there is no current heir to the house." Lorenz continued. "By depending on each other, we improve relationships, build bonds, and ensure stability within the Alliance. You understand now why marrying a commoner is simply unthinkable.”

Byleth took a bite into another cake. Lorenz allowed him time to finish his food. From his perspective, the professor seemed to be in deep thought, which was partially true. Half of Byleth's mind was dedicated to mulling over Lorenz's words while the other half was wishing he had more of that Enbarr Sweet Cake Lysithea had introduced him to. It was one of the few foods flavorful enough to leave an impact on his dulled sense of taste.

“I’m not so sure. It seems beneficial to me.” Byleth mused after a moment of pause.

“I...beg your pardon?” Lorenz frowned softly. “I had thought we were on the same page.”

“Marrying a commoner would give you further insight into a commoner’s struggle. Your house would look more favorable among those you govern. Isn't that right?” Byleth asked. 

“I suppose—hmm...that is a fair point." Lorenz said, placing a hand to his chin and taking Byleth's words into consideration. "However, for the marriage to be prestigious in such a sense, the commoner would need to hold some level of influence—someone like you for instance.”

“I appreciate the compliment, but you're not my type.” With Byleth’s small smirk, combined with his monotone voice made it difficult to tell if it was joking or not.

Either way, Lorenz took it as such and guarded his hearty laugh with the back of his hand. 

“Ha! I do love your wit, Professor,” he chuckled softly. “And I confess, speaking with a commoner such as yourself has broadened my horizons."

"Is that so?" Byleth asked with a quirked eyebrow.

"Indeed. Earlier in our tea session you shared your thoughts on the Crest-based nobility system. This is the first time I’ve heard your view of Crests, and I must say, it is rather refreshing.” Lorenz smiled.

“Thank you. But most of that came from Edelgard and Lysithea.” Byleth corrected him.

“Edelgard?” Lorenz frowned, picking up his cup of tea again and swirling the drink a bit absentmindedly in thought. “...Yes, even as a noble, I suppose it does make sense. House Hresvelg’s bloodline has become diluted as of late, with less and less Crests appearing per generation. I believe I can understand her reservations towards the system in light of House Hresvelg's standing and the Empire's distance from the church.” 

Lorenz took a slow, thoughtful sip of his tea, setting it down and frowning deeply at the drink before his eyes returned to his professor.

“But Lysithea as well? She bears the Major Crest of Gloucester—a privilege I admit to being rather jealous of.” 

“She hates her Crest. More than anything in the world.” Byleth said solemnly. 

He was one of the few who knew of Lysithea's second Crest and although he was sure there was more to the situation than she was telling him, it was clear that Lysithea's Crest were a great source of discomfort to her.

“I could scarcely imagine why.” Lorenz paused for a moment. “...More puzzling, however, is that she seems to have gone at length about her feelings towards this matter with you. Meanwhile my own attempts at political discussion have been...well I suppose a ‘fiasco’ would be an appropriate way to word it.” 

Lorenz sighed.

“That doesn’t surprise me,” Byleth admitted with a passive shrug, scanning the tower of snacks for more treats..

“Professor, if I may, I implore you to teach me your secret." Lorenz said.

"My secret?" Byleth said, hesitating as he his hand drew towards a strawberry tart.

"Convincing others to be so forward with you. It is invaluable that I learn your methods of conversation.." Lorenz insisted. "If I am to be a successful noble, I must be a skilled negotiator, a shrewd diplomat, my skill in speech must—” 

“You talk too much.” Byleth interrupted.

“I-I...I beg your pardon?” Lorenz asked with a quirked brow.

“Lysithea and I discuss many things, not just politics,” Byleth explained after a slow, patient sip of his tea.” You are only focused on the one subject.” 

“And what ‘things’ do you discuss, if I may ask?”

“Magic. Books. Fashion. Strategies,” Byleth counted off with a passive shrug. “She loves to talk about sweets. Sometimes, before we drink our tea, she'll have me close my eyes and try a new dessert she’s picked out for me. Other times, we just talk about her.” 

“Hmph...and yet she told me she 'loathed speaking of herself',” Lorenz sighed.

“She hates to be interrogated,” Byleth corrected him. “And she hates talking about her past. But she likes to be understood. That’s why she always complains about being treated like a child—she wants her classmates to understand this about her.” 

“You seem to know her quite well." Lorenz said with a slight scowl. "I confess to being a bit envious.”

“I know  _ all  _ of my students well.” Byleth corrected him.

This was true. Having once been criticized for not paying close enough attention to his students, Byleth had since made great efforts to know them both on and off the battlefield, despite his standoffish nature.

“And why is that?” Lorenz’s tone wasn’t as accusatory or offended as one might expect; it was a genuinely curious tone of voice that sought out a sincere way to improve himself. “What is it that separates you and me?” 

“You talk. I listen.” Byleth explained very plainly.

“I see. Well. I am listening, Professor.” 

“I allow my students to lead the conversation,” Byleth began very truthfully. "I will discuss whatever subjects they are interested in, even if I have no personal interest in it. Art, fashion, gossip, opera, politics...I have no passion for any of this, but by listening to my students I understand more about them. You included.”

“Is that so? Go on then.” Lorenz said.

A quiet sip cued for Byleth to continue.

“You’re egocentric, but not arrogant. You don’t truly believe you are worthy of high praise—yet, but aspire to become a hero, loved by commoners and nobles alike. You believe your noble status entitles you to a sense of pride and a sense of responsibility to justify that pride.” 

“Hehehe, that is true, Professor. I will admit—" Lorenz started, a smile appearing on his face, but he was quickly interrupted.

“You make an effort to look after the common people." Byleth said. "Though you try to empathize with their struggles, the truth is you don’t understand commoners at all. Because of this, they are unknown to you and you secretly fear them.”

Lorenz noticeably seemed to be a bit offended at this suggestion.

“I wouldn’t go so far as to say—” 

“When other nobles shirk their responsibilities or fail in their duties, you never look down at them with smugness. You're angry. It's personal to you, Lorenz." Byleth continued. "When any noble fails in their duties, this reflects poorly on all nobles. You are not content to see House Gloucester to succeed. You wish for all nobles to succeed.” 

Lorenz raised an eyebrow in surprise. He often struggled to explain his position to commoners or even other nobles, but the professor seemed to understand him quickly well.

“T-That is true, yes. When nobles—” Lorenz was interrupted again. Byleth wasn't done.

“When nobles fail, the commoners suffer the most. They revolt. When they revolt, this inspires other commoners to do the same. If the commoners come to hate nobles, they will come to hate  _ you _ , no matter how proper a noble you are.”

Lorenz paused this time, at something of a loss for words. Byleth couldn’t be sure if Lorenz was genuinely considering what he said or just giving Byleth room to breath and continue. Perhaps it was a bit of both. Byleth pressed forward.

“If they come to hate all nobles, they will overthrow the nobility. You will get caught in the crossfire, and you will die. In the end, no matter how strong you are, the commoners outnumber the nobility a hundred to one.” 

Lorenz had little to say in response, and he glanced away. There was a slight anxiety to the soft hum that acted as his only reply.

“You are ambitious, like many nobles. But even if House Gloucester prospers at the failure of another noble house, you are wise not to celebrate. You do genuinely care for the common folk, but you also know what lies in store for you should the nobility ever fail them.”

Byleth rose to his feet.

“I must be going now. I'm scheduled to give a seminar in swordsmanship soon. But consider that our lesson for today. By speaking to others, you are only teaching them about yourself. When you listen, you can learn who they are.” Byleth gave a curt but polite bow, as was expected when speaking to a noble. “Thank you for the tea.”

“Yes...of course. Let us indulge in such conversation again.” Lorenz muttered, a bit too late as Byleth had already left.

A slight discomfort had edged his tone. The professor hadn't said anything to admonish, chastise, or even embarrass him and yet Lorenz had never felt so...exposed before. But in spite of his unease, he felt that indeed, by listening, he had learned quite a bit on who his professor was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the delay on this one. Writing a tea time discussion is actually pretty difficult for me because not much is physically going on and descriptors as well as body language are more heavily relied on to make it interesting...both of which I'd consider a personal weakness.
> 
> I don't think the next chapter should take too long to post...hopefully I'm not wrong. I may also complete one of the other tea time discussions if the mood suits me or I see an interest in it.


	5. A Proposal (White Clouds: 10/10)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the Battle of the Eagle and Lion approaching, Lysithea wishes to join her professor in training for preparation, however Byleth has other plans. Lysithea is called to meet her professor in his office. Alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew. I managed to get this one done in a timely manner, though it may be awhile before I can post again due to current circumstances and holiday preparation. I should have it up before Christmas though.

**White Clouds**

**Field of the Eagle and Lion**

**Day 10 of the Wyvern Moon**

“I’m here, Professor!” Lysithea announced as she entered the training grounds.

There was no response.

“Professor?” Lysithea called out, glancing around.

Byleth was nowhere to be seen. Felix was training by himself, swinging his sword against a training dummy. Catherine and Dimitri had just finished their bout and were discussing something or another. And Caspar was having his own sparring session against Petra. Yet there was no sign of the professor anywhere.

“Hmmm...” 

Lysithea frowned, digging into her pouch and pulling out a sheet of paper containing her professor’s schedule.

As a professor, Byleth was rather infamous for often being unavailable at his office. He was known to run—quite literally—all over Garreg Mach, working on one thing or another, or supervising the Golden Deer. This had initially been a problem for his students, who would either have to wait until the next class period, or scour the entire monastery and hope they would find their teacher, if they needed assistance or had questions.

Taking her professor up on his offer to assist with her training, Lysithea had requested more private training sessions between the two of them. Byleth had written down his schedule for her benefit and suggested she visit the training grounds during his personal training sessions whenever she wanted to join him. And, to make things easier for the other students, Byleth had made a second copy of his schedule that was now pinned on his office door.

Since starting this new arrangement of theirs, Lysithea had come to realize that her professor was always very punctual. ...Not that she had been following him around or anything. Of course not. But whenever she needed him for something, Byleth would follow his schedule to the letter. And every Monday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Saturday Lysithea could always meet him here at 5:00 PM, ready and willing to assist her in her training.

And yet it was 5:00 PM now and her professor was nowhere to be found.

Why? Had something held him up? 

Lysithea glanced to Catherine, wondering if perhaps she was the reason for her professor’s absence. Byleth generally preferred to conduct his training later in the day, when the training grounds were empty, and he wouldn’t be disturbed. But sometimes he would come earlier to spar with Catherine.

Byleth was hoping to fully master the Sword of the Creator, but there were very few opportunities when he could train with it. Obviously, he wasn’t going to use the Sword of the Creator in a one-on-one sparring match with a student. The only people he felt who could feasibly stand up to him were Catherine—a Knight of Seiros with her own Hero’s Relic—and his father, Jeralt...the Blade Breaker himself.

According to her professor, however, Jeralt was no good to train with. He was almost always busy with some mission or another. And when he  _ was  _ available, he was often too lazy and drunk to bother with training. 

" _ Don’t tell Leonie I said that, though,"  _ Byleth had warned her. 

Lysithea giggled at the memory.

That left Catherine as Byleth's only option. Like Jeralt, Catherine was also usually busy with a mission, but when she was at the monastery, she was good for training. So perhaps her professor had come earlier to take advantage of Catherine’s presence and tired himself out...

Lysithea sighed. It wasn’t as though they had arranged this or anything, but their training sessions were regular and consistent enough that he ought to have considered telling her he couldn't make it.

Then again, it wasn't as though Byleth was obligated to do this. If Lysithea was honest with herself, she did sometimes wonder if she was overstepping her boundaries with how much time she was spending with the professor. Especially considering there were other struggling students who needed his help much more. Just as Lysithea was about to give up and leave, however, she heard a voice.

“There ya are, Lysithea.” 

Lysithea snapped out of her trance and turned to face the speaker. It was Cyril who had called out to her.

“Oh, hey Cyril,” Lysithea responded in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

“The professor told me to come and find ya, ” Cyril explained. “He said you’d probably be here, and I was supposed to tell you to come and see him.”

“Do you know where he is?” 

“He was near your classroom when I saw him. And if he aint there, then someone must have seen where he went,” Cyril continued with a shrug. “Anyway, I told ya the message, so I’m gonna get back to cleaning.”

“Oh, OK. Thank you, Cyril.”

Lysithea nodded her gratitude and smiled weakly as she stepped outside.

Why did the professor wish to see her? Was it to tell her that he couldn’t make it to training today? ...No, that couldn’t be it. If that had been all, he would have just passed the message on to Cyril instead of requesting a meeting.

Under ordinary circumstances, Lysithea would have suspected that their mission had come up and the professor needed Lysithea’s assistance to magically contact the rest of the class. However, this month the Golden Deer House would be partaking in the Battle of the Eagle and Lion along with the rest of the school. There were no missions scheduled. What could it be then?

Upon entering the Golden Deer classroom, Lysithea saw that the professor, unfortunately, wasn’t there. The only two present were Claude, who was busying himself with sketches of formations on the chalkboard, and Flayn, who was studying several books to catch herself up with the rest of the class. Not wanting to interrupt Flayn, Lysithea approached Claude instead.

“Claude, have you seen the professor?” Lysithea asked.

“Ah, as a matter of fact I did.” Claude said, turning to face her. “He was headed to his office. Wanted to speak to you in private, I think.”

“Private?” Lysithea’s eyes widened. “I’m not in trouble...am I?”

“Who can say?” Claude teased. “But nah, I doubt it. Knowing Teach, he’s probably just worried about you.”

“Worried about me?” Lysithea frowned. She already knew where Claude was going with this.

“Of course. After yesterday's little incident, you really should consider getting a good night’s sleep.” Claude smirked. “We can’t rely on Leonie to carry you during the Battle of the Eagle and Lion if you collapse again.”

“I wasn’t tired, I just fell ill. And I could do without the lecturing,” Lysithea snapped. “I believe I’ve told you before; I would greatly prefer it if you  _ didn’t  _ treat me like a child.”

“But if I’m lecturing you, that means I’m treating you like...a student, right?” Claude chuckled.

Lysithea rolled her eyes. These games of his were getting tiresome.

“Isn’t that how Teach treats you?" Claude asked. "Like his adorable little student? His star pupil? His favorite—" He was interrupted by Lysithea.

“I’ll have you know that the professor treats me with respect. Like a partner. An  _ equal  _ ,” Lysithea corrected, a small trace of pride in her voice. “An example you could learn from.”

“Ah, I see. So Teach sees you as his ‘partner’...” Claude teased with his usual smile.

"That's not what I meant." Lysithea huffed, arms folded.

"Perhaps he's called you to his office for 'private tutoring'." Claude laughed.

"Claude, I'm warning you—"

"Or maybe..." Claude paused for a moment for dramatic effect, leaning in closer with the same intent. “...he wants to propose.” 

Lysithea froze for a moment, caught off guard and slightly startled by the suggestion. She gave Claude a derisive look, whose smirk only broadened in response.

“I find your lack of maturity to be utterly exhausting.” Lysithea said, regaining her composure.

“Uh oh, don’t tell me you plan to break our dear professor’s heart.” 

“Will you knock it off already?” Lysithea grumbled, her face reddening as Flayn glanced at the two curiously. “Ugh never mind. I’ll go ask him myself.”

Lysithea stormed out of the classroom, but let out a sigh as soon as she was out of earshot. That could have been worse, but she still ought to have handled herself more maturely. Lately, the professor had been receiving a series of complaints regarding Lysithea’s ‘antisocial’ behavior. Byleth, supposedly, had a difficult time believing it at first but...

Apparently her professor had stumbled across her fight with Ignatz. In his words, Lysithea acted like a 'completely different person' when he wasn't around. Lysithea shuddered at the embarrassing memory. She hadn't been able to provide a good excuse to behave the way she did, but since then Lysithea vowed—both to her professor and herself—that she would try to better control her emotions.

Despite her efforts, however, Lysithea was still having trouble. Claude had an especially easy time getting under her skin. If the professor wanted to see her in private, it was probably to be discreet, to save Lysithea the embarrassment of addressing her behavior in public. But what had she done this time? 

...Raphael. That had to be it. Lysithea had yelled at him recently—threw a tantrum, really. But...was she truly at fault? Lysithea had  _ tried  _ to bite her tongue. She  _ tried  _ to control her emotions like the professor instructed but...Raphael had just barged into her room. He hadn’t even had the courtesy to knock first! Lysithea could have been indecent for all he knew!

All things considered, Lysithea thought she had handled  _ that  _ invasion of privacy pretty maturely, at least. But then Raphael started demanding that she play tag with him and had lectured her about staying inside and studying. Could he truly not see how uncomfortable she was? Did he have no sense of self-awareness at all?

Lysithea sighed and shook her head. No. It didn’t matter what Raphael did. She was supposed to control herself. That’s what the professor said. And to his credit, Byleth knew how she felt, he knew how annoying it was to be treated like a child, but it wasn't as though she could ask the professor to change  _ everyone else’s  _ behavior. All she could do was change  _ her  _ behavior and hope it would stop. 

When someone treated Lysithea like a child, she was supposed to just ignore them and move on. It was the mature thing to do. The adult thing to do. But she didn’t. She lost her temper. Again. And her professor was surely disappointed in her.

...And that was the worst part. The professor was neither strict nor scolding and he had yet to discipline her, despite her behavioral issues. He didn't even lecture her. All Byleth ever did was share the complaints that had been brought to his attention and allowed Lysithea to figure things out for herself.

And yet Lysithea couldn't help but feel a great sense of shame whenever he had to bring up her behavioral problems. Byleth was no older than the rest of the class, he hadn't even been taught proper etiquette in a noble household, and his prior life had been spent isolated from others. Yet compared to her, he behaved like a perfect adult...

Sure, the professor was somewhat eccentric. And despite being a teacher, he was a bit of a loner. But he never had trouble socializing. He was honest, mature, and had perfect control over his emotions and actions. And clearly, she had a lot of maturing to do.

Of course, Lysithea wasn’t the only student who had been sent to their professor for behavioral issues. Lorenz had been sent to his office several times now for inappropriate conduct towards women. Byleth was always reprimanding Hilda for her laziness. He practically had to babysit Marianne. And Leonie was always getting into a disruptive one-sided rivalry competition with him.

Claude was the worst. He probably had to be disciplined more than anyone. Pranks, dangerous schemes, breaking the rules, disrupting Lysithea’s studying, and more. Byleth was always getting onto him over something or another. Sometimes Lysithea wondered if Claude simply did all of this so he had more excuses to visit the professor.

Still, Lysithea always wanted to believe that she was above all that. That she wasn’t just another kid the professor had to constantly monitor like a parent. Lysithea respected the professor's maturity and hoped one day he would recognize her maturity as well. And yet every time Byleth had to clean up her mess, Lysithea felt that, bit by bit, she was losing the professor's respect. The respect she had worked so hard to earn from him.

To Lysithea, her professor’s respect meant everything to her. She wanted to truly be seen as an equal to him. ...Maybe...even something more—Lysithea blushed. Now wasn’t the time for such thoughts. She had made it to Byleth’s office. Lysithea gulped and knocked on the door.

“Come in.” Byleth answered.

Lysithea opened the door and entered. Byleth was sitting at his desk, drawing various formations—likely concepts for a future assignment—and placing them next to one another for comparison.

“Shut the door.” 

Lysithea nodded and closed it. 

“Please,” Byleth added a bit too late. 

He was still getting used to the niceties of socialization, particularly with nobles.

“You called, Professor?” Lysithea asked nervously.

“Yes. Sit wherever you like.” 

Lysithea nodded and sat on his bed—it was the only place available to sit on, for her professor’s office was less of an office and more of a bedroom. A spare student bedroom, in fact. Lysithea couldn’t help but once again compare the professor’s maturity to her own.

Despite being such a competent professor and easily the most popular, Byleth hadn’t even been given a proper office. Instead, the church had given him a spare bedroom, like a student. This rooming assignment was surely a sign of disrespect to Byleth’s age, and yet her professor had never complained. Once again, showing perfect control over his emotions.

“Sorry.” Byleth said, finishing his work and moving his chair to face Lysithea directly. “I suppose you’re wondering why you are here.”

Lysithea shook her head and let out a sigh.

“No. I...I’m sorry, Professor. Clearly, I acted very immaturely, and I should have sorted out my own problems instead of letting you get involved.” Lysithea admitted, her head ducked slightly. 

Byleth didn’t respond. 

“I was just so irritated, you know? Raphael barged right into my  _ room  _ and...even when I tried to ignore him, he kept treating me like a kid. I...” Lysithea sighed. “...I know he means well, but surely he must know by now how much I hate being talked to like that. So why—?”

“I didn’t know that.” Byleth interrupted. “I’ll make sure Raphael knocks from now on. I’m glad you resolved this on your own.”

“Wh-what?” Lysithea gasped. “You mean you didn’t call me for—w-why am I here, then?”

“I wanted to discuss something with you.” 

“I’m not in trouble then?” 

“Of course not. The opposite, in fact.” 

“...That’s good,” Lysithea sighed in relief. “...So what did you wish to discuss, Professor?”

Byleth didn’t immediately respond. Lysithea studied his face intensely, and although it was hard to read his blank expression at times, she was getting pretty good at picking up some of the more subtle changes and cues. He seemed to be pondering something, perhaps unsure on how to start. After a few moments of silence, he spoke.

“This conversation needs to stay between us. I don’t want the other students or faculty to know.” Byleth said, glancing towards the door.

Lysithea nodded in response, but raised a curious eyebrow...what could he possibly want to discuss with her that he wouldn’t want the others to know about?

“What is it, Professor?” Lysithea asked.

‘Since we’ve begun training together, I feel we have become...closer,” Byleth began.

“Closer?” Lysithea repeated, tilting her head.

“I have assisted you in combat training and likewise, you have assisted me in magic. Over time, I have come to rely on you.” Byleth admitted. “By working closely together, we’ve been able to better coordinate our attacks and strategy on the battlefield.”

“Ah, so you wanted to discuss improving our coordination?” Lysithea asked. This didn’t explain the need for privacy, however.

“Something like that.” Byleth said vaguely. “The truth is, you’re faring better than I would have expected from a student. You have grown much in the past few months considering your lack of experience. I’m impressed.”

“Thank you, Professor,” Lysithea sighed sheepishly, her cheeks turning pink from the praise. “But surely you didn’t call me here just to flatter me, did you?”

Byleth hummed under his breath, as if unsure on how to progress. 

“The point is, I know I can depend on you. I haven’t had such a reliable ally since my father.”

“...S-Surely that’s a bit much, isn’t it?” Lysithea gasped lightly. 

She didn’t know Jeralt all that well, but she could hardly imagine standing up to a legendary captain like him.

“You’re definitely not as strong as he is,” Byleth agreed with a small nod. “But you’re capable in your own right, as well as hardworking, and intelligent. I can count on you to understand any given situation and relay my tactics as if they were your own. I can rest easy knowing that I have you to watch my back.”

Lysithea didn’t know how to respond to this, nobody had ever held her in such high regard before.

“Also, you don’t drink,” Byleth added.

Lysithea giggled, though it was hard to tell if the professor was being serious or making a quip.

“I...um, I don’t know what to say,” Lysithea stammered shyly. “But...what does this have to do with your summons, Professor?”

“You are my student, and I will always see you as my student but...I think you can be more.” 

“Um... ‘more’, Professor?” Lysithea asked, eyes widening. The conversation she had with Claude was suddenly fresh on her mind.

“...I want us to be partners.” Byleth said.

Lysithea’s heart stopped. 

“...Partners?” Lysithea repeated breathlessly after a long pause.

Byleth nodded. 

“I understand if you’re unsure.”

“No, no—I...it’s just, I  _ am _ a student. ...Isn’t this a bit...questionable?” Lysithea stuttered, her hands moving about erratically.

Surely, she was just misreading the situation. It was a misunderstanding, right? She was misinterpreting what he said, all because Claude filled her head with that ‘proposal’ nonsense.

“I suppose it is,” Byleth admitted and Lysithea stared in astonishment. “But I think you’re ready for this.”

Lysithea’s heart started racing.  _ Was  _ she ready? Lysithea had always respected her professor, of course. Admired him. Maybe even idolized him. And yes, she considered him to be good looking, but aside from the occasional daydream...she had never  _ seriously  _ considered him in a romantic light before. In truth, Lysithea had always seen romance as a distraction from her true goal.

...But then, maybe it was different here? This was her professor, after all. It was his  _ job  _ to assist Lysithea with her growth. Surely, by spending more time with the professor, Lysithea would only further her own progress and advance her ambitions. 

Maybe that was just an excuse. A means of justifying this sort of relationship. But in any case, it was clear that she wanted this—yes, she was sure she wanted this. But was she  _ ready _ ? This had all come so quickly, out of nowhere. What was she to do...?

“...But...Professor, I mentioned before. I’m younger than the others,” Lysithea mumbled, her face turning red. “Wouldn’t you want someone more...mature?”

Byleth blinked, brow pinching somewhat, uncertain of exactly what she was trying to say.

“I... remember you telling me that,” Byleth recalled, his expressionless face betrayed by his slow and confused tone. “But I think you’re mature enough as you are.”

“Do you really mean that, Professor?” Lysithea asked, her eyes filled with hope.

“You do have some room for development—” Byleth admitted.

For some reason Lysithea glanced towards her chest when he said this.

“—but you’re working hard and always improving. I think you’re ready for this. Claude agrees with me,” Byleth finished.

Lysithea’s face froze with panic.

“You...told  _ Claude _ ?!” Lysithea asked incredulously, realizing this might be why Claude brought up the idea of proposal. Had he known the whole time?!

“Of course.” Byleth said, notably a bit confused at her reaction.

Lysithea sighed. In fairness, she supposed if she had been in his situation, she would have done the same. She would have likely asked Leonie or Hilda their opinion before coming forward...but then...if the professor needed to ask Claude’s opinion before seeing her, that could only mean he was  _ nervous  _ . Lysithea gave a small smile, swelling with pride at the idea that  _ she _ , of all people, was making her stoic professor  _ nervous _ .

“W-Well I think I’m ready too!” Lysithea said, her voice brimming with confidence. She didn’t care how much teasing she’d have to ensure from Claude—so long as he kept their secret.

“I’m glad to hear it.” Byleth didn’t smile, but his eyes lit up. A sign that he was pleased. “In that case, there’s something I want to give you.”

“Something...you want to give me?” Lysithea asked, her breathing became heavy. 

She hadn’t considered how seriously her professor was taking this. Was he  _ really  _ going to propose to her on the spot?

“Yes.” Byleth said, unlocking his closest and digging for something inside. “I know gifting you such a thing is ‘questionable’, but I know you can handle it. ...Ah, where is it?” 

Byleth frowned as he continued rummaging.

Lysithea’s breathing was becoming heavier and her heart was pounding. She didn’t think she could handle the suspense for much longer—

“Here we go.” Byleth said, turning to face Lysithea and presenting...a staff? 

She had expected a ring...

“What...is this?” Lysithea asked. 

She didn’t need to ask. She knew what it was. It was a staff, but not just any staff. That shape and golden color...

This was  _ Thyrsus _ .

“I thought you of all people would know.” Byleth said with a small frown, having expected Lysithea to recognize a Hero’s Relic from Alliance territory.

“Sorry, Professor. I meant...how did you get this?” Lysithea questioned. “This is the heirloom of House Gloucester.”

“Lorenz entrusted it to me.” Byleth said. “Told me he wasn’t ready for it. But... think he meant for you to have it. You  _ are  _ the best mage in our class. If not the Officers Academy.”

Lysithea remained silent.

“And you’re one of the few people responsible enough to wield a Hero’s Relic.” Byleth paused. “...Lysithea, are you OK?”

“I’m fine.” Lysithea said.

This was mostly true. Lysithea was elated that her professor saw her fit to wield a Hero’s Relic. That he was  _ giving  _ it to her. But something about the situation felt odd to her. Was giving her a weapon the professor’s weird way of showing his affection? Somehow that didn’t seem too out of character for him and yet...

“One of your crests is a Crest of Gloucester. So, you should be compatible,” Byleth pointed out, only continuing when Lysithea nodded. “But I’m not sure if having a second Crest will affect your ability to wield the relic. For the time being, I’d like to keep a close eye on you while you use it.”

Lysithea nodded again but frowned in thought. Something about this just wasn't adding up.

“I’m grateful for your confidence, Professor. But...is this gift somehow related to the two of us being...together?” Lysithea asked.

“Naturally.” Byleth said. “When dividing our class into groups, it’s important to consider the strength of each student as well as their method of traversal. With a Hero’s Relic, you should be able to keep up with me.”

Lysithea blinked in confusion. She wasn’t following this at all. What was the professor talking about?

“Um, groups? What do you mean, Professor?” 

“For our class, of course.”

Lysithea was definitely lost now.

“Until now, we have been moving as a single group for the sake of safety." Byleth began." But as you and Claude pointed out in our last lecture, this would be inefficient in the Battle of the Eagle and Lion. By splitting up, we can cover more ground and defeat more opponents."

Lysithea didn’t respond. She was completely taken aback.

“Lorenz, Leonie, and Marianne will make up our cavalry unit. Ignatz, Raphael, and Flayn will be an infantry unit,” Byleth continued. “Claude and Hilda will work as another infantry unit, until they are both certified to ride wyverns and become an aerial unit. That leaves you to act as my partner in battle and assist me in commanding the other groups.”

“Partners...” Lysithea repeated under her breath.

So  _ that’s  _ what he had meant. Lysithea sighed softly. Had she  _ really  _ just expected her teacher to propose to her? What was she thinking? 

_ ‘I guess I really am a child, huh?’  _ Lysithea thought to herself. 

Still, there was something that didn’t make sense...

“...Professor?”

“What is it?” 

“Why was there a need for secrecy in a matter such as this?” Lysithea frowned.

Sure, giving a student a Hero’s Relic might raise some eyebrows, but not in the same way...  _ that  _ would have.

“After winning the mock battle, the other houses will consider us to be a threat in the Battle of the Eagle and Lion,” Byleth reiterated. “In addition, I now hold the Sword of the Creator and will be the only professor in attendance.”

“I see...” Lysithea nodded in understanding. “If the others know we have a second Hero’s Relic, that would only encourage them to join forces and take us out first, correct?”

"Yes. But according to Claude, Sylvain and Ingrid of the Blue Lions House have both received relics from their families. Because of this, the Black Eagles are less likely to team up with them unless they have to."

“So, we’ll need to keep our training with this relic a secret for the time being then, won’t we?” Lysithea hazarded a guess.

“Yes but...” Byleth paused, fingertips rising to his chin in thought. “I was...wondering if you would help me with something else as well.”

“What is it, Professor?” 

“Once you’ve grown accustomed to the power of Thyrsus...” Byleth’s eyes rose from his desk and back up to her. “Would you be willing to spar with me? Using the Sword of the Creator and nothing held back? I wish to truly master its power before the competition.”

Lysithea’s eyes went wide. She must have misheard him, right? He wanted to use the  _ Sword of the Creator  _ against his student? Against  _ her  _ ? Lysithea paused, taking a moment to process this information.

Surely...surely the professor must really think highly of her if he was willing to use such a dangerous weapon...and to fight at full strength too. Clearly, he didn’t just see her as some child. Or even a mere student for that matter. Her professor...he truly did see her as an  _ equal.  _ Lysithea’s eyes welled at this realization.

“I understand your apprehension,” Byleth assured her when she didn’t respond. “I did previously say I wouldn't use this weapon against a student. So if you don’t feel comfortable—”

“Yes—no...I... Thank you, Professor!” Lysithea cried, rushing around his desk and pulling him into a tight hug.

Byleth blinked, hands ghosting around her body in uncertainty. He hadn’t expected this. He wasn’t used to being hugged either. In fact, Byleth didn’t recall a time in his life where he had ever been hugged before. He was left unsure how to respond to the current situation.

“Lysithea...?” Byleth murmured to her with questioning.

“I swear, I  _ will  _ master the power of this relic! And then the two of us will continue working together, side by side, pushing each other to new heights!” Lysithea declared, squeezing him tighter.

Byleth was still a bit taken aback by her reaction, and he didn’t know what he possibly could have said to warrant such a response from her...and yet, he couldn’t help but smile slightly, seeing his student so happy like this.

“I’m...glad to hear it,” Byleth murmured, tentatively patting her head. 

Lysithea didn't let go and Byleth still had no clue how to handle a situation like this. He was also only now realizing just how small Lysithea was compared to him.

She was also... very warm.

_ 'Partners.'  _ Lysithea thought to herself.

Two people who relied on one another and supported each other as equals. Whether it was romantic or not, this was ideal. Lysithea held the professor tight for some time, overjoyed at the confidence he had given her. 

But there was  _ still  _ something that seemed off about the whole situation. What was it? 

...Realization suddenly hit her.

“Professor?” Lysithea broke the hug. “You spoke to Claude before meeting with me, correct?”

“I did.” Byleth confirmed with a nod. “Is something wrong?”

“No, it’s just...” Lysithea frowned. “Did Claude...know  _ why  _ we were meeting?”

“It was his idea that we speak privately." Byleth clarified. "He said it would be better if we kept our cards close to our chest before the competition.”

“I see...” Lysithea frowned, eyes narrowing for a moment. “...Well thank you for everything, Professor! I’ll meet you at the monastery gates in a few minutes to begin our training.” 

Lysithea smiled and spoke sweetly, but Byleth could detect a dangerous undertone in her voice.

“Are you busy right now?” 

“Nope! Just wanted Claude’s opinion on a new spell I’ve been testing. I’ll see you soon!” Lysithea promised, maintaining her smile. 

Yes...Lysithea was certainly eager to get Claude's opinion on her new spell. Until now, she had never practiced it, but after Claude had set her up with that 'proposal' suggestion, Lysithea believed she found the perfect test subject.

_ The dastard. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had a bit of trouble coming up with a title for this one. Eventually it was suggested that I just go with 'A Proposal'.
> 
> "But isn't that kind of baity?"  
> "Yes. That's the point. =P"
> 
> Maybe I'm just biased, but it does seem like Lysithea treats Byleth very differently than everyone else. She seems to have a very sweet disposition towards him, even when compared to how other students act around him. Between that and her Goddess Tower scene, I always got this impression she had a crush on him in the academy.


	6. Tea Time with Edelgard (White Clouds: 11/2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Following the Battle of the Eagle and Lion, Edelgard invites Byleth to tea so they may discuss the future of Fodlan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another tea time chapter. I apologize for the delay on updates, holidays got in the way. But with luck, I may be able to add two more chapters before Christmas. Like the last tea session, this was requested to potentially get a deeper look on Byleth's political views. Enjoy!

**White Clouds**

**The Flame in the Darkness**

**Day 2 of the Red Wolf Moon**

It had been six days since the Golden Deer House emerged victorious in the Battle of the Eagle and Lion. And although Byleth's reaction was as subdued as always, their professor was actually overjoyed with their triumph and his student's growth. Unfortunately many people—his students included—were crediting the Golden Deer victory to their professor, much to Byleth's chagrin.

Following this, Byleth received an invitation to tea from Edelgard under the pretense of congratulating him for his victory. And, in honor of said victory, she had graciously offered to supply the tea and sweets herself. 

Although Byleth was grateful to receive the invitation and readily accepted, he couldn’t help but feel there was an ulterior motive at play. He noticed that Edelgard hadn’t extended Claude a similar courtesy...

Of course, when it came to Edelgard, it always seemed as though she had some hidden agenda. Even when her true intentions were as simple and innocent as wanting to spend time with the professor, it was always lurking behind some excuse. In that sense, she was similar to Claude, although Byleth had simply come to accept it, dismissing the behavior as an inevitable outcome from a political upbringing

So far the discussion had been centered around history and politics, much to Byleth's disappointment. Truthfully, Byleth was more interested in discussing the recent Battle of the Eagle and Lion. Particularly his duel with Edelgard where she had shown exceptional strength. Unnatural, really. Edelgard had stood as his equal and rival, despite his supposed legendary Crest and Hero's Relic. And once again, he had felt a strange heat when facing Edelgard in combat, just as he had during the mock battle...what was it?

Byleth normally didn't mind having these politically focused discussions, but Edelgard seemed less interested in teaching him history and sharing ideas than she was on quizzing him and critically, but silently, evaluating his answers. 

Still, he was in good company with good tea, and a stack of apple tarts and chocolate pastries on the silver-lined tray between them. His eyes scanned the tray for a moment, searching for something, before turning ever so slightly downcast.

"Are these not to your liking?" Edelgard asked cordially, noting this subtle change in expression.

Byleth blinked, looking upwards to face Edelgard in mild surprise. Not many students were capable of reading his face. He shook his head.

"No, they’re fine," Byleth assured her, taking an apple tart. "I had thought there might be Enbarr Sweet Cakes."

"Oh, you enjoy those?" Edelgard asked, her eyes growing slightly before curving with her endeared smile. "I admit, I wouldn't have guessed you to be such a sweet tooth. But given the amount of sweets you usually bring to these tea sessions, I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. If you wish, I could go fetch some from my room."

"Don't trouble yourself," Byleth insisted quietly, raising a hand. "Let's just enjoy the tea."

"If you insist. But the offer stands. My caretakers from back home are always sending me those cakes. They must forget how much I detest them." 

Edelgard made a slight look of revulsion.

"You don't care for sweets?" Byleth asked.

Edelgard shook her head.

"No, but those cakes are just... _ too  _ sweet. I don't know how you can stand them."

"I don't have a particularly strong sense of taste," Byleth explained, shrugging slightly. "If the food isn't very sweet or very spicy, I may as well be chewing on wood."

"Is that so? I'm surprised such a picky eater would have such a ravenous appetite like yourself." Edelgard laughed more a moment, before placing a hand to her mouth, eyes wide. "Oh, I’m sorry. I suppose that was rather rude of me to say."

"I'm not bothered." Byleth shook his head passively. "It was part of growing up. We were always on the job and couldn't afford to waste time. Never knew when our next meal would be, so whenever we had food available we had to eat as much as possible with the time we had."

"Hmmm, come to think of it...” Edelgard hummed with amused thought, her voice fluttering into a laugh. “You, Claude, Raphael, Ingrid, and Caspar... Weren't the five of you involved in some sort of eating contest after the Battle of the Eagle and Lion?" 

"Claude passed out,” was Byleth’s only response. 

Edelgard laughed again, earning a new look from Byleth. He stared at her intently, eyes scanning and analyzing her as she chuckled. He couldn’t help but notice how...genuine she felt in the moment. Or rather, how genuine she seemed around him, whereas in public Edelgard always seemed to be wearing a mask.

“You seem happy, for once,” Byleth noted.

Edelgard slowly glanced up from her cup of tea, frowning somewhat.

“For once? Am I that obvious?”

Byleth didn’t respond with anything but his very frank expression.

“I see. So you can see right through me...” Edelgard sighed, slightly supporting her cheek with the back of her hand. “I suppose this is why Hubert insists that I avoid you.”

“Is that so?” Byleth raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, it upsets Hubert when I spend time alone with you.” Edelgard said. “I’ll refrain from telling him about this.”

“Wouldn’t want him threatening to kill me again,” Byleth added. 

Edelgard quickly looked up to him, her brow pinching a bit.

“Surely he didn't—no, he must have. You wouldn’t joke about that...” Edelgard sighed exasperatedly, her fingertips pressing against her brow. “I apologize for his behavior. He...” 

Edelgard paused, unsure how to continue, but her pause for thought was interrupted by Byleth lightly raising his hand.

“Don’t worry about it,” Byleth assured her. “He’s only the second or third person who has threatened to kill me since I joined the monastery.” 

“May I ask who was the first?” Edelgard asked in surprise.

“Catherine, I think.”

“Thunder Catherine..." Edelgard repeated. "Well...that’s certainly one way to greet the new professor. Hmmm, I don't suppose her threat had anything to do with Lady Rhea, did it?”

"She seemed to think I was a danger to Rhea. Just as Hubert seems to think I'm a danger to you."

“Heh. So zealous. I suppose that is one thing Hubert has in common with the Church's faithful,” Edelgard murmured thoughtfully, soon looking up and adjusting her light tone to a more formal one. “But let’s resume our discussion from earlier. You disagreed with me, that Miklan may have had potential as a ruler if only given the chance?”

“Crest or no Crest, he was a villain who lashed out when he didn't get his way” Byleth sighed, sipping his tea, uneager to resume this conversation. “He wasn’t fit to rule.”

“But do you believe Sylvain  _ is  _ fit to rule?” Edelgard asked, peering over her closed fingertips at Byleth, who didn’t have a response for this. “Surely, a Crest is no indicator of a worthy ruler.”

“I won’t disagree. But without House Gautier, Fodlan may be unable to defend against the Sreng region. Replacing House Gautier would cost a large sum of money and many lives."

To Byleth’s surprise, Edelgard smiled at this.

“You seem much better informed on the political state of Fodlan since we discussed,” Edelgard pointed out with appreciation in her voice. “Have you been doing research?” 

"Not particularly." Byleth shrugged. "Some of my noble students like to discuss politics. Claude, Lorenz, and Lysithea in particular."

“I imagine they provide you with a varied viewpoint. I understand Lorenz is your traditional noble through and through, but Lysithea...” 

“...Hates Crests. And the current system of nobility. Deeply.” 

‘ _ As I suspected...  _ ’ Edelgard thought.

Edelgard hummed thoughtfully. This information further confirmed her suspicions on Lysithea, but she chose not to address it. Whether the professor knew of Lysithea's situation or not, it was better that Edelgard not reveal how informed she was. Besides, she had more pressing things to discuss.

“And what are  _ your  _ views, Professor?” Edelgard inquired.

“I am not a noble. I have no investment or sway in politics.” Byleth responded dismissively.

“You underestimate your influence as a professor. Even so, you surely must have an  _ opinion  _ at least.”

Byleth paused a moment. He could only assume she was waiting for him to condemn or, contrarily, support the system of nobility. Or else prognosticate the doom of Fodlan due to a corrupt noble class. He didn't have particularly strong views on Fodlan's governance. And it honestly didn't matter what he thought. The system had its problems but...there was one thing Byleth did have hope in.

“...Very well.” He sat up. “The system is flawed. The nobility is filled with corruption. Despite this, it is not without merit. I have faith that my students will rise to the occasion and become splendid nobles."

Edelgard frowned. She hadn't expected this answer. She hadn't even considered the possibility. Edelgard had predicted one of two outcomes. Either the professor would either agree with her and denounce the Crests that acted as the foundation of the noble system or would display his political ignorance, which she would then rectify.

But instead her teacher seemed perfectly capable of recognizing the failings of the aristocracy, but chose to ignore them all in favor of his students. Was he truly willing to place that much trust in them? Perhaps Edelgard was mistaken...and she and the professor weren't as similar as she thought.

"I see..." Edelgard muttered. It was the only response she had to this.

There was a slight pause before Byleth continued.

"...Still, the resentment caused by the Crest based system is...dangerous.” Byleth sighed.

Edelgard perked up at this.

“Dangerous you say? Does this mean you resent the current system?"

Byleth sighed again. If Edelgard thought she was being subtle, then she was sorely mistaken. Byleth knew that she merely wanted confirmation that he too despised the system. Validation maybe? Well, there was no point in hiding.

"I don't support the system in place, no." Byleth admitted.

"That is certainly interesting, but are these your views? Or Lysithea’s?” Edelgard accused.

"What little I know of Fodlan's political system, I learned from my students. You, Lysithea, and Lorenz especially. ...But no. Lysithea seems...” Byleth paused, glancing aside to find the words. “...resigned to it. I don't think she believes that the current system of nobility cannot be removed.That nothing can be done. She is right...in a way.” 

“But you don’t  _ fully  _ agree with her?” Edelgard guessed with a cock of her head. “You would seek reform?”

“No. I would not reform the system. I  _ could  _ not reform the system. Even if I were a noble.” Byleth replied.

“I see. So, you would have given up. I’ll admit, that’s a disappointing response coming from you,” Edelgard said with a slightly scornful tone.

Byleth shook his head. Edelgard didn't get it.  _ It didn't matter  _ what he thought about the noble system. It didn't matter if he sought to change the system, through whatever means. It wouldn't work. It was pointless to even try. That's where Lysithea was right. However what Lysithea failed to realize is that the system  _ would  _ change. But it would change with or without them. Lysithea didn't understand this because she was a noble and, due to her higher class, she was thinking about things in terms of diplomacy.

Whereas Lysithea was a civilized woman, Byleth was not. He had grown up seeing the uncivilized side of Fodlan. When uncivilized people didn't get things their way, they didn't discuss it at the table or bring change through diplomacy. They brought it through bloody and violent force. And it would happen eventually. 

Byleth paused for a moment, as he came to realize another possibility. ...No, perhaps Lysithea  _ did  _ understand.

“...Some time ago, Lysithea told me that she planned to dissolve her house,” Byleth mentioned thoughtfully. 

Edelgard blinked, unsure if the professor was talking to her or himself. In any case, she nodded her head and remained silent.

"I know she dislikes her noble status, but it seems strange that she would renounce her nobility." Byleth frowned. "Among my students, Lysithea is the hardest worker. She's the first to take responsibility and not to type to flee from duty. I wonder...if she recognizes the danger nobles are in.”

“Danger? Care to elaborate, Professor?” Edelgard asked, her curiosity peaked.

“War is coming.”

Edelgard froze. Whether by intention or by nature, Byleth’s tone carried an ominous air, his gaze fixated on Edelgard’s rather deeply. Not quite knowing or intimidating, but... stern. He saw her brow twitch momentarily at his very sudden, blunt statement of what he deemed to be fact.

“...War? My, what...an interesting position." Edelgard's calm tone was betrayed by her shocked, almost frightened expression.  _ Was this pure coincidence?  _ "You think there will be a war to overthrow the system?”

“Yes." Byleth said simply, though Edelgard was wordlessly urging him to continue on, so he did. "The system cannot be reformed peacefully. Eventually, resentment will come to a boil either within the nobility itself or, worse, among the commoners.”

“Please, explain.”

“The system will be changed. Not by a diplomatic noble, but a radical. War will erupt. A civil war between the nobles would be bloody, but it could result in the unification of Fodlan and then perhaps a reform to the nobility.” 

"But a war that pits nobles against commoners..." Edelgard began, trailing off into their not-yet-spoken shared knowledge.

“A civil war between commoners and nobles would only end when all noble lines are purged. The revolutionaries may even attempt to eradicate Crests completely by killing anyone who possesses one.”

“I see..." Edelgard frowned. "That  _ would _ be concerning. You do bear the Crest of Flames after all, Professor.”

Byleth shook his head. She had missed the point.

“I’m not concerned about that. I only worry for my students.”

“And would you participate in such a war?” Edelgard asked.

Byleth just looked at her.

"Hypothetically," Edelgard added.

“I would protect my students,” Byleth said firmly.

“Even if it meant killing other students who sought to bring them harm?”

“I wouldn’t let that happen.” 

A naive statement and yet Byleth's voice was filled with a great sense of authority when he said it. Edelgard almost felt jealous. 

“Heh...you’re certainly confident, Professor,” Edelgard chuckled.

Byleth didn't respond. He just looked at her. Nothing about this conversation was funny. 

“I apologize. This is no laughing matter." Edelgard sighed. "Still. Do you truly believe peace isn’t an option? Surely, you could use your influence over your students to bring about great change, could you not? By uniting the heirs of the Five Great Lords, the Alliance could reform the system of nobility.” 

Byleth frowned again. Why was she asking him this?

“I could do that. I would likely succeed. But I won’t. It is no use,” Byleth said very plainly.

“And yet a moment ago you sounded so confident,” Edelgard pointed out with a frown.

Byleth frowned. She  _ knew _ why it wouldn't work. And yet she was asking him for an explanation. Why? Blunt person that Byleth was, he was tempted to just outright ask what Edelgard was after.

“Any reform among the Alliance nobility would be undone in a matter of decades," Byleth explained. "Imperial nobles and Kingdom nobles would seek to protect the system, for fear that they too would lose power someday. Using their wealth and network of connections, they would exert their massive influence over the Alliance until the system of nobility was restored.” 

“...You have very keen insight and wisdom, Professor,” Edelgard murmured, her tone tinted with respect. “But what if you were to spread your influence further? To Dimitri and myself? What if we were to all work together under your guidance to remove the influence of Crests?”

Byleth gave Edelgard a critical look. More pointless explanations to questions she knew the answer to. There was no point in beating around the bush anymore. 

“You ask me this as if you weren’t aware that such an effort is doomed to fail,” Byleth huffed shortly, emotionless as ever, but growing a little impatient with Edelgard playing dumb.

“I stand corrected. Keen  _ and  _ perceptive," Edelgard complimented. "Heh, yes, it’s true. I don’t believe it would succeed but...I want to hear your reasons for why."

Byleth closed his eyes. There was no use fighting it. He continued in his flat tone.

“...If we did work together to remove the system peacefully, it would re-emerge after our time.” 

“Through what means?”

Finally, they have gotten to the heart of it. Edelgard wanted to hear him condemn the Church of Seiros now. She sought validation in her own views of the church. She wasn't so public about her criticism with the others, but Byleth knew her well. Edelgard hated the church. And she blamed it for the influence Crests had in Fodlan. 

But regardless of how he felt, Byleth couldn't respond. He was a professor of the Officers Academy after all.

“Ah. You don’t wish to say. You must be referring to the Church of Seiros then?" Edelgard mused. "After all, it is through the Church that we are taught that Crests are the blessing of the Goddess. And it is through her blessing that we bear the right to rule, is it not?” 

Byleth frowned. He was hardly an expert on Fodlan's politics and he certainly wasn't religious, but it was clear that there was a network of power between the church and the nobility. Yes, the church taught the people of Fodlan that Crests were a blessing from the Goddess. And so surely if you were blessed by the Goddess, you had the right to rule over others.

The nobles, in turn, contributed money. A lot of money. This gave the Church of Seiros even more influence. This deep connection the church had with the nobility was clear. Even less pious nobles such as Lorenz had to show reverence. Failure to do so would only bring into question their legitimacy as a nobles. After all, how could one be among the Goddess' chosen if they did not revere the Goddess?

“I understand," Edelgard sighed, nodding softly in response to his silence. "You can speak no more on this subject. Still, I think we’re in agreement...so long as the Church of Seiros stands, so too shall we live under the tyranny of Crests.” 

Byleth still didn't respond.

“Nevertheless, I appreciate you for taking this time to join me for tea. As always, I’ve found your guidance to be enlightening. I shall take my leave then. Thank you...my teacher.”

Validation. Yes, Edelgard did appreciate the professor's validation against the church. But there was something else she had been seeking as well. Reassurance. Reassurance that the system of nobility could not be reformed peacefully. The professor was right, the aristocracy would never be undone by some idealistic noble. It had to be torn down by a radical. A visionary. Edelgard understood this. And clearly, so did the professor.

Unfortunately, however, even if the professor did agree with her ideals, it was clear to Edelgard that he was no crusader who would fight for her cause. No, unfortunately the professor was not the type of man who could be swayed by her words. The only thing that could sway to him...was his students. 

The professor recklessly... _ foolishly  _ put all of his faith in others and was willing to naively entrust Fodlan's to his students. It was the safety and well being of his students that mattered to him. Above all else. 

It seemed that recruiting the professor would be a fruitless endeavor...still, Edelgard would try. She had to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So what do you think? I'm guessing IS wanted Byleth to be flexible enough for the player to insert their own opinion on Fodlan's current state, but since all of the endings more or less seem to involve uniting and reforming Fodlan, I can only assume that Byleth more or less agrees with Edelgard...but is less concerned about politics and more concerned for the safety of his students. Seems to be what more or less motivates him on each route, even if he doesn't seem to care for the war itself.


	7. Before the Ball Part 1 (White Clouds: 12/22)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the Garreg Mach Ball approaching, the female students of the Golden Deer House begin to plan out their special night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took a bit longer than I thought, but here we are, two new chapters just before Christmas. First time writing Flayn and...gonna be completely honest, I've avoided her so far because her speech mannerisms are so hard to get down. x.x Hopefully my attempt was a decent one at least.

**White Clouds**

**The Cause of Sorrow**

**Day 22 of the Ethereal Moon**

“Now to fix your hair...tilt your head just a liiittle more,” Hilda instructed as Marianne lowered her head further. “Alright I’m almost—done! Now look up!”

Marianne obliged and Hilda turned her to face a nearby mirror. Hilda had fixed Marianne's disheveled hair and applied a bit of makeup on her face, particularly her eyes.

“Look at you! You are  _ gorgeous  _ , Marianne!” Hilda giggled cheerfully, her hands squeezing her friend’s shoulders with delight.

Marianne gave a weak smile in response, earning a playful tap on the nose from Hilda.

“And if you can smile like  _ that  _ , the boys will be falling all over you once the ball comes!” Hilda laughed again with a bigger, beaming grin as she twisted around to face others in their company. “Don't you agree girls?” 

It was the break period between classes and Hilda was busy helping Marianne prepare for the Garreg Mach Ball, which was only four days away. Sitting alongside them was Leonie, Lysithea, and the newest member of their house, Flayn. All five of the female students. Ignatz was also in the homeroom with them, painting something or another, but nobody paid him much attention.

“Not bad.” Lysithea said, glancing up from the book she was reading.

Though her compliment was sincere, privately Lysithea felt that what Marianne really needed was a good night’s rest. Normally she wouldn’t be here with the other girls, but Claude was in the library right now and she didn’t very much feel like being teased while she was trying to study.

“You look nice, Marianne.” Leonie said with an encouraging smile.

“Thank you.” Marianne said in her usual whispery voice. “But...I don’t think I’ll be going to the ball.”

“Oh, but you  _ must  _ !” Hilda insisted. “The ball is the perfect time to meet new people! You don’t want to end up alone, do you?”

"Oh, I...um..." Marianne stuttered.

“Hey, that’s no way to talk.” Leonie interjected disapprovingly. “And to be honest, I’m kind of on the same page.”

“You mean to say you also have no intention of attending?” Flayn asked in a disheartened tone. “It would be ever so lonely if the two of you did not participate.”

“I didn’t say I wasn’t going.” Leonie shrugged. “I’m just not all that interested in dancing.”

“I’m not that good at it...” Marianne murmured sadly. “I would probably just stumble over myself and get in the way.”

“Ah! But what if we were to teach you?” Flayn suggested. “If you should find yourself struggling with the basics of dance, I would gladly be of assistance.”

“Oh definitely!” Hilda agreed. “We need to look out for each other after all, right? At least that’s what the professor always says.”

“I...don’t think  _ this  _ was the kind of thing he was referring to.” Leonie frowned.

“And what about you, Lysithea? How well can you dance?” Hilda inquired.

“Well enough, I suppose.” Lysithea answered shortly. 

Lysithea had been trained in dance when she was a child, but unfortunately there hadn't been a single person her age in Ordelia territory who could be her partner. She doubted she’d find a partner in the academy either. ...Not that it mattered. 

True, her parents had insisted she learn to dance. But Lysithea had only agreed because she knew this sort of thing was a necessary formality when engaging in diplomacy with other nobles. But Lysithea's parents—particularly her mother—had been more interested in teaching her the basics of courting.

Whereas Lysithea wished to spend her remaining years being as productive as possible, her parents only wanted her to enjoy her limited time and take pleasure in frivalities such as courtship. They meant well, but Lysithea saw no benefit to a young romance. She had no time. Why pursue such a relationship when it couldn’t last?

“Lysithea...are you OK?” Leonie called over with a crushed brow of concern.

Lysithea blinked as she returned to reality, only noticing how upset she really was when Leonie pointed it out. Thinking about such things was certainly disheartening and, evidently, it seemed to have been showing on her face. 

“I’m just fine, thank you.” Lysithea said, hiding behind her book once more.

“Come now, there is no need to be so dispirited.” Flayn said earnestly. “We are most fortunate to be attending such a festive occasion and ought to take the opportunity to—ahem—‘let our hair down’ as the saying goes.”

“Yeah! That’s the spirit, Flayn!” Hilda cheered. “And it must be nice to have a chance to get away from your brother.”

“I have no doubt that my brother will continue to make an effort to watch over me..." Flayn sighed. "But he will most certainly be preoccupied by his other duties during this event, so I am hoping to make the most of this time!”

“That’s nice and all, but why are you two so concerned about us?” Leonie asked. “Go on and dance, we promise we won’t get in your way.”

“But this is a chance to create lasting memories among our peers!” Flayn insisted. “Surely you would wish to look back fondly on our days at the academy, would you not?”

“Well of course.” Leonie said with a light laugh. “But in the future, when I look back on my time at the academy, I’m going to think of all the times we fought together and watched each other’s backs. I’m just not all that interested in a dance.” She shrugged.

Flayn’s face fell. 

“I see. I...had rather hoped the memories we created here wouldn’t all involve...violence. When I think of you all, I would like to think of our time together as peaceful.” Flayn sighed.

“We’re creating peaceful memories now though, just chatting like this, aren’t we?” Leonie pointed out. 

Lysithea’s grip on her book tightened and, behind its pages, she gave a small frown. She was starting to regret studying here. All this talk about the future and memories was making her feel...uncomfortable.

“That is true enough, I suppose.” Flayn said with a small smile.

“Well  _ I  _ think you should all attend.” Hilda stated. “It’s not just about creating memories, it’s about us girls supporting each other, you know?”

“Supporting each other?I'm not sure I follow you.” Leonie said, raising a confused eyebrow. “How would  _ my  _ dancing support  _ you _ ?”

“The ball isn’t just about dancing, silly!” Hilda said with a laugh. “It’s about mingling, socializing, getting out there and meeting new people! You dance, you talk to some charming boys, and then we all meet up and swap notes about potential partners before going out and doing it again.”

“Ugh. I have absolutely no intention of doing such a thing.” Lysithea said, looking revolted.

“Ooh, does that mean you’re bringing a date then?” Hilda asked cheerfully

“W-What?!” Lysithea stammered. “I...I didn’t say anything about—”

“A date on the night of the ball! How romantic!” Flayn sighed. “And it would be perfect for Marianne too, do you not think so?”

“Oh yeah!” Hilda nodded. “That  _ would  _ be perfect! No awkward socializing, no switching partners, just Marianne and her handsome gentleman sweeping her off her feet.” 

Hilda giggled to herself as Lysithea quickly hid behind her book again. 

“Don’t you agree, Marianne?”

“I-I don’t think anyone would want to go with me...” Marianne sighed glumly.

“Come on, don’t say that! I’m sure just about anyone would be happy to be your date, right?” Hilda asked.

“Were I a boy, I’m sure I would be most honored to accompany you.” Flayn said encouragingly.

“If nobody else is willing, I’ll gladly take you myself. I’m sure we’d have fun.” Leonie smiled.

“You can’t do that, Leonie!” Hilda interjected. “Marianne needs a  _ boy  _ to dance with! ...But if we can’t find anyone else, I suppose you could always just ask the professor.” 

Lysithea’s heart skipped a beat upon hearing this.

“The professor...?” Marianne murmured. 

“Well yeah, I mean he has to say ‘yes’, right? It’s not like the Professor can reject his own student." Hilda reasoned. "So, he’d be a good choice if we can’t find anyone else. Unless...Leonie, you weren’t thinking of asking him, were you?”

“Ha! No way! Do you really think I’d want to go with our teacher?” Leonie asked without a trace of embarrassment.

“Then who  _ are  _ you taking?” Hilda pressed.

“I told you, I'm not interested in dancing." Leonie reminded her. "Although I guess coming with a friend wouldn't be so bad. If Marianne isn't an option, maybe I’ll ask Raphael.” Leonie shrugged.

“RAPHAEL?!” Hilda exclaimed. “Why would you take him?!”

“Don’t get the wrong idea, I just figured he wasn’t much of a dancer either, so maybe we’d just spend our time at the food table.” Leonie said.

“Well, I guess the professor’s all yours then, Marianne. Good luck!” Hilda said.

“No...no.” Marianne insisted. “I...wouldn’t want to bother him.”

“You won’t be a bother. Come on. It’ll be fun!” Hilda encouraged.

“I would just be a burden...” Marianne muttered. 

Hilda sighed, there was no way she was going to get through to her.

“Lysithea, your ears are all red. Is everything OK?” Leonie asked.

“Fine—I’m...I’m fine.” Lysithea said, holding her book so close to her reddened face that she could no longer read the print. In truth, she had been considering what Hilda said...it would be impolite of the professor to turn down one of his students, so maybe she could—

“A night with the professor...I must admit that does sound rom—ahem, rather fun.” Flayn corrected, also blushing slightly.

“Ooh, Flayn and the Professor, that sounds wonderful!” Hilda said brightly.

“As ideal as that may sound, I’m afraid it cannot be.” Flayn sighed. “It is for the best that I come alone and mingle with the others. Coming on a date would make it all the easier for my brother to single them out. I certainly would not wish to inconvenience the kind professor who has taken me in.”

“Don’t worry, Flayn, as the winner of the White Heron Cup, I’m sure you’ll have the boys falling at your feet.” Hilda assured her. “Meanwhile, I guess we’ll just have to pair the professor with someone else.”

“Now hold on, since when were we all so interested in pairing up our professor?” Leonie asked with a confused look.

“Since he’s become such a pain, lately.” Hilda whined in response. “I mean, have you seen him? He spends all day training and studying, and yet somehow, he  _ still  _ has time to spy on us. Ugh. He needs a hobby. Or maybe a girl in his life.”

“Hmm, now that you mention it, I have seen him hanging around from time to time when I’m hunting or training.” Leonie said in reflection.

“And have you seen the way he prowls around the monastery at  _ night  _ ? So spooky.” Hilda added with a shudder.

Marianne gave a soft smile.

“The professor is always watching over us...” Marianne said this with a sense of endearment, but this seemed to be lost on Hilda.

“You got that right, Marianne, and someone needs to put a stop to it.” Hilda scowled.

“Well we won’t stop you. Go ahead, Hilda.” Leonie laughed.

“Me?! No way!" Hilda exclaimed. "Could you imagine me with the professor? He's so stiff and he  _ never  _ socializes. Even during tea he almost never talks, and when he does, it’s just another lecture. Ugh.” 

Hilda sighed and Lysithea gritted her teeth but remained quiet. It was true, though, that during tea, their professor would often keep the conversation around tactics or schoolwork—magic in her case—and there were times he could be awfully quiet. 

Lysithea had asked him about this at one point, and Byleth had simply said that he enjoyed listening to her speak about her interests, whether it was history, politics, or even fashion. The professor once told her that she made even boring subjects interesting. Lysithea had been rather flattered upon hearing this and likewise, she enjoyed discussing magic or debating tactics with him in return.

“Then again...” Hilda paused. “If we  _ were  _ dating, maybe he’d go easier on me during training? I mean he wouldn’t want to bog me down with too much work, right?”

“As if the professor would fall for such a sham!” Lysithea blurted out sharply, and perhaps more defensively than she had meant to.

“Mmm, yeah, you’re right.” Hilda agreed, unperturbed by Lysithea’s aggressive tone. “I guess there’s nothing for it. Looks like we’ll have to set the two of you up instead.” She giggled.

“W-What?!” Lysithea exclaimed, blushing red. “What brought this on?!”

“I’m not suited for the professor. So, who better than you, his 'favorite' student?” Hilda shrugged.

“I-I wouldn’t say that...” Lysithea stammered, nervously playing with her hair.

Under normal circumstances, Lysithea might have been able to play the situation more coolly, but lately she had developed a reputation for being the 'favorite' or 'Teach's pet' as Claude sometimes called her. And unfortunately this nickname developed more due to  _ her  _ behavior than Byleth's.

“Oh, but it’s true, isn’t it?" Hilda insisted. "You come to class really early just to sit in front, you always get perfect grades in all of our assignments, and you’re always going to the professor for private training, aren’t you? Meanwhile he struggles just for me to participate in normal class training!” Hilda laughed again.

“Um...well...” Lysithea found herself getting more and more nervous.

“Besides, he’s just your type, right?” Hilda pressed. “‘I’m a serious hard worker! I don’t have time for friendship or dances because I need to study!’” She spoke in a mock voice

“Will you knock it off?” Lysithea snapped. “I do  _ not  _ sound like that!”

“I...think she was impersonating our professor.” Leonie said, smiling but respectfully trying to keep herself from laughing at the situation.

“You...were? Oh...” Lysithea muttered sheepishly. “Um, well...I...I’m in agreement with Flayn on this. I wouldn’t want to inconvenience our professor just so  _ you  _ can get out of work.”

“Inconvenience him? But he  _ adores  _ you, Lysithea!” Hilda insisted brightly.

“Hmph...” Lysithea huffed with a frown. 

Lysithea didn’t want to be ‘adored’ by the professor. She wanted his respect—no, his admiration, more than anything. Her professor was the most amazing person she had ever come to know. He was strong, smart, hardworking, humble and kind to everyone he came across. Furthermore, he had complete control over his emotions, which was more than she could say for herself. If there was anyone who had the right to treat her like a child, it was him.

...And yet he didn’t. In fact, her professor had been completely unaware of their age difference until Lysithea had pointed it out—quite foolishly she might add—during a nightly encounter in the monastery. Despite all of that, he continued to treat her with the utmost respect, never belittling her, never coddling her, but holding her in the same regard he would for any colleague, even entrusting her with a Hero's Relic, Thyrsus.

Furthermore, Byleth had been exposed to all her childish secrets from her fear of ghosts, to her love of sweets, and even her collection of dolls. He never once held it against her. Most importantly, he never attributed her abilities to her twin Crests, instead always praising her determination, hard work, and sheer will. 

But then maybe that was because Byleth felt similarly to her? After all, he bore the Crest of Flames...perhaps he understood what it was like, having all his accomplishments and hard work ignored in favor of his Crest? Or even attributed to Jeralt as Leonie often did. To Lysithea's shame, she had never asked him about this.

“Lysithea?” Leonie spoke gently, breaking her out of her trance. “I hope you know that we're not trying to tease you. I’m sure Hilda just wants you to have a fun time at the ball, you know?”

“Absolutely!” Hilda said. “This could be your first real chance to hook up with somebody! And when you’re seen with the  _ professor,  _ all of the boys will be lining up for you!”

“I will absolutely  _ not  _ be doing that.” Lysithea pouted with more indignation than necessary, earning her stares from everybody. “I-I mean...I wouldn’t want to use the professor so shamelessly.” 

Lysithea had conflicting feelings about the whole situation. On one hand, she had firmly decided long ago that there was no place for romance in her life. She didn’t have time. Most of the other women at the academy were scouting for potential husbands, men who they would spend their futures with...but Lysithea couldn’t do that. She didn’t have a future to offer.

Try as she might, though, Lysithea couldn’t  _ completely  _ get over her feelings. She was still a young woman at heart and there were things...things she wished for deep down. The idea of leaving this world without ever sharing a kiss...it was a dreary thought. But even so, who would she kiss? It wasn't as though the boys were interested in her. Not only was she the youngest at the academy, but she was the only girl under sixteen. 

Two months. Just two more months and then she would be sixteen, a true adult by Fodlan standards. But until then, she  _ was  _ technically a child, much to her chagrin, no matter how mature she was. Clearly, the boys at the academy saw her as a child. And they all treated her like one too.

...All of them except the professor.

She imagined it. Herself and the professor. Their night together. Lysithea didn’t care too much for dancing, but her heart swelled at the idea of dancing hand in hand with her professor, his eyes locked on hers, not caring who saw them together, not caring that she was a couple years younger than him or a 'child' for that matter (perhaps not even aware), but simply loving her for her. 

The professor wasn't going to be much of a dancer. That was certain. After all, he had needed Lysithea, Hilda, and Flayn to teach him the basics, so he could supervise his students while they prepared for the White Heron Cup. And even then, dancing had definitely been a struggle for him.

But Lysithea didn’t care. They would dance, the professor would stumble, and perhaps he would ask her to lead him through it. Even with her leading, however, they were sure to have trouble, but the two of them would just laugh it off, no matter how badly they humiliated themselves along the way. And when they were done, the professor would take her outside and stare into her eyes. It would be unrealistic to expect a smile, but he would give her ‘the look’.

He rarely made this expression. It wasn’t a smile, but it was close. The corners of his lips would move up ever so slightly until his mouth was a straight line and his eyes would have a lively fiery look to them. Hardly anyone could tell the difference between this and his normal expression, but Lysithea knew that when he made this face, he was happy. She had seen it a few times, when the professor learned a new skill or she introduced him to a new sweet he really enjoyed.

Yes. That was the expression he would have reserved for her and only her. He would stare into her with those flaming blue eyes, cusping her cheek with his warm hand, and reveal his true feelings, his undying love for her. Lysithea, of course, would be speechless. Even in this planned out fantasy of hers, Lysithea couldn't pretend she would know how to respond to that.

But she did know what would happen next. The professor would place one hand on her head and the other on her back, moving steadily closer but waiting for her to seal the deal. She would. She would lean into him, enjoying a kiss for the first time in her life and with her professor no less, the man she idealized and admired more than anyone else. Lysithea's heart fluttered at the thought until Hilda’s voice brought her back to reality. 

“Lysithea? Helloooo? Are you there?” Hilda asked, snapping her fingers.

Lysithea blinked, somewhat startled and uncomfortably aware that the other girls were staring at her. She had gotten caught up in a daydream of all things.

"I-I...umm...I think I'm going to go get some fresh air." Lysithea said nervously and abruptly, hurriedly pushing in her chair and heading outside.

"Wait, Lysithea!" Leonie called, but too late, she was gone.

Lysithea let out a sigh as she made her way out of the classroom. She wasn't exactly doing a good job of hiding her affection for the professor. But then, was there any reason to? Ten years. That's how long she had left in this world. At most. If she was serious about having a relationship with...Byleth, she couldn't afford to be timid and waste time.

_ Was _ she serious? At this point, there was simply no denying that her feelings had become...intense. And yet she felt unsure on whether to proceed. It wasn't a fear of rejection that was holding her back, although she supposed there was a bit of shyness. Nor was she too concerned about the social stigma of holding a relationship with her professor—he was roughly the same age as the rest of them after all. No, what really held Lysithea back was a fear of selfishness.

'The professor is different.' That's what she told herself. That's what Lysithea had always told herself even before coming to the academy. She wasn't supposed to make friends, no matter how much she desired to. She wasn't supposed to be distracted. The only person Lysithea was supposed to interact with was the professor who would be assisting in her growth. 

Well, she had already failed in that regard. Despite her unsociable behavior, she had made quite a few friends among the Golden Deer. And when she first told herself this, she never thought her professor would be young and handsome nor that she would come to see him as a close friend, someone who truly understood her and made her happy.

Lysithea had already bent her principles when she allowed herself to make friends. Romance had no place in her life. She didn't have time for such trivialities. And yet here she was making exceptions for herself, insisting that spending more time with the professor could only have a positive impact on her growth. Really, it would be counterproductive of her  _ not  _ to pursue a relationship with him, right? ...But was that true? Or was she making excuses for herself again?

Was it right for her to pursue happiness? Lysithea felt it was selfish—childish of her to do so. She always had. Ever since she was a kid and she realized how much pain her condition brought to her parents. She vowed that she wouldn't be a burden or source of pain to them. And no matter how much her father begged or pleaded that Lysithea try to find happiness with her remaining time, she was resolved in seeing her ambitions through instead. 

But perhaps being with the professor...maybe that could be a satisfying middle ground. One where she could pursue both her goals and her personal happiness together at once. She could help her parents. She could make them happy. And...she would be happy too.

Lysithea knew one thing for sure. Regardless of how 'productive' it was, the time she spent with her professor was not wasted. Her most cherished memories of this world would be her time here at the Officers Academy. The time spent with her friends...Byleth especially. 

...That was why...yes...she was going to pursue this. Even if it was irresponsible. But she wouldn't coerce him to take her as a date out of obligation like Hilda had suggested. She didn't want the professor's pity. She wanted his sincere affection. Even if she did still feel shy, Lysithea had decided that one way or another she was going to confront him on the day of the ball and open up about her feelings.

Lysithea let out a deep breath she had been holding in all this time. She had steeled her resolve and yet...she felt that amid all this confusion, she had forgotten something. And indeed she had, for meanwhile back in the classroom...

* * *

"Do you know where Lysithea went off to?" Byleth asked, his head tilting somewhat and his mouth turning into a confused frown. "It's time for the lesson to begin."

"I have no idea," Hilda answered, eyes wide with equal uncertainty. "We tried getting her attention when everyone returned for class, but she just wandered off, saying something about 'fresh air'."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally this request was to establish the relationship all the students had with each other, but I wasn't able to do it. Mainly because there aren't many ships I'm majorly dedicated to. Honestly? Most of them are good. Byleth/Lysithea is an exception, partly because so many of Lysithea's endings are bad, partly because he's one of the few she has a consistantly good relationship with, and partly because it just feels like a scumbag move for Byleth to abandon one of his students. Although I am pretty fond of Claude/Hilda too...
> 
> Another reason I couldn't do this though is because, ironically, I couldn't think of too many shipping opportunities for the ball without forcing it and outright contradicting canon...which I admit, I have a very stubborn disdain for, to the point of irrationality.
> 
> Also, I am curious about feedback for these inner monologues. My partner claims I did a good job, but I have my doubts on my ability to capture the mind of a teenage girl.


	8. Before the Ball Part 2 (White Clouds: 12/22)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the Garreg Mach Ball approaching, Byleth is filled with dread at the prospect of dancing. How can he hope to get out of this situation?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is less of a "Part 2" and more of an alternate viewpoint. Following the previous request, I got another one to show how Byleth felt towards his female students. Couldn't exactly do that though, because I personally doubt he had much in the way of romantic feelings...at least in White Clouds. Probably developed them more during the war phase. So I decided to do something a bit similar.

**White Clouds**

**The Cause of Sorrow**

**Day 22 of the Ethereal Moon**

_ DING! DING DONG! DONG! DOOONG! _

The cathedral bells chimed loudly, indicating that another hour had passed. Byleth glanced up from his desk and looked towards the clock. There was still time left until his next lecture. He had wanted to cover last week’s assignment in today’s class, but it seemed as though he wasn’t going to finish grading in time.

Byleth turned back to his papers and added a comment to Raphael’s assignment in his usual rushed chicken scratch writing, before looking over the rest of the stack. He let out a sigh of confusion. The results of this assignment were not what he had expected. What was it that had confused his students so greatly? 

Claude was the only one who had solved the problem in the way Byleth would have expected. Ignatz and Lysithea had also managed to complete the assignment, but Ignatz had ended up sacrificing far too many units and Lysithea's solution—while clever—was different than Byleth had intended and seemed like an overcomplicated answer for a simple problem.

The rest of the students had not been as fortunate. Marianne hadn't turned her assignment in, Hilda had simply written 'retreat' and made no further effort to complete the assignment and although Raphael put forth his best effort, Byleth, for the life of him, couldn’t make heads or tails on he came to his conclusion.

It was becoming more difficult to concentrate as the halls were filled with the chattering of students passing by as they made way towards their next class. Byleth irritably closed the doors to his office with more force than he had intended, causing a nearby snowy owl to leap from its perch hanging over his desk and circle his room in confusion. Byleth sighed and opened the door again, momentarily allowing the owl to fly outside, before closing it again and returning to his desk.

It was no good. Too many students had failed this assignment for him, in good conscience, to give them a bad grade. He was going to have to go over the assignment with all of them again and see what went wrong. Byleth would find some other way to reward Claude, Lysithea, and Ignatz for their efforts. 

It was just as well because Byleth simply couldn’t concentrate well enough to finish the grading with the students all chattering so loudly just outside his office. But perhaps he should have expected it, considering what was coming.

The Garreg Mach Ball. That was all the students had been talking about since finishing the Battle of the Eagle and Lion. Who was dating who, who they were going to dance with, who was the best dancer, and other senseless gossip.

Byleth truly couldn’t care less about the ball and he did little to hide it. If any other professor had acted like this, Byleth was sure that Seteth or maybe even Rhea would have reprimanded them for their ho-hum attitude and dampening the student's spirits. But thankfully his lack of enthusiasm was brushed off as part of his usual dour demeanor. For the first time in his life, Byleth was glad he was so unexpressive.

The incident in Remire Village certainly hadn't raised Byleth's mood, and finding out that Jeralt was potentially keeping even more secrets from him didn't help either. And, when compared to The Battle of the Eagle and Lion, the Garreg Mach Ball did little to interest Byleth and he couldn't see what all the fuss was about. 

The Battle of the Eagle and Lion had truly been a highlight for Byleth since joining the academy. The event had been an exciting and rare moment of fun for him. He had not only gotten to see the full growth of all the students, but this had been the first time his students were able to display their full tactical ability. 

This battle had been different from the mock battle. Real weapons were used and each of his students had their own battalion to command. Were it not for the knights disqualifying students before they could sustain serious damage, this could have been a real battle. Most of all, watching his students so soundly defeat their opponents with their  _ own _ strength and leadership...it made Byleth truly proud, and every day he only wished he could properly express it. 

The ball, by comparison, couldn't be any less exciting.

Byleth had never been one for dancing, let alone romance. In truth, he didn’t even know how to dance before joining the academy. Practicing with his students for the White Heron Cup had been his first experience and it hadn't gone well at all. While the girls seemed to have a fun time teaching him, he certainly hadn't enjoyed himself. 

In a normal situation, it would have been acceptable for Byleth to merely supervise his students during their routine and not partake in dance practice himself. Unfortunately, however, the addition of Flayn made them a class of nine, which meant if he didn't join there would have been an odd student without a partner. 

Byleth wasn't the type to get embarrassed easily and he rarely got flustered, but he hated making a fool of himself and that's exactly what had happened. Flayn and Lysithea had been extraordinarily patient with him, but Leonie made their dance practice into a contest—one that she constantly beat him at—and Hilda was, perhaps, having too much fun. Constantly teasing or laughing at him.

Worst of all, he had stepped on poor Marianne's feet so many times that practice had to be cancelled just so Flayn and Lysithea could heal her. It had been a bad match up. Marianne was a rather clumsy girl and Byleth, while not clumsy, certainly wasn't graceful either...a trait Leonie claimed he had inherited from Jeralt. And in addition to all that, Sothis' playful commentary during the whole affair hadn't been helpful.

In the end, Flayn had been their representative and, despite all the setbacks and missteps of his tutelage, she had won the White Heron Cup with flying colors. Much to Byleth's annoyance, however, many people at the academy had gotten the impression that the Golden Deer had only won, once again, due to their professor, and were crediting the victory to  _ him  _ .

"Nothing could be further from the truth..." Byleth murmured, shaking his head.

"Even so, I doubt that will stop you from being dragged onto the dance floor on the day of the ball," Sothis teased.

Byleth grimaced.  _ If  _ he got dragged on the dance floor. The situation surrounding that was unclear and annoying, as it often was for these types of scenarios. The faculty wasn't supposed to be taking part. The knights weren't expected to come (although that wouldn't stop Alois). Most of the professors weren't coming either. 

The homeroom professors, however, were expected to attend, but only to chaperon their students and make sure they didn’t do anything inappropriate. Byleth sighed, as far as he was concerned, it wasn’t any of his business what his students did with their private romances.

Seeing no point in trying to grade with all the distractions, Byleth turned his attention to a game board and began arranging the pieces, thinking back to previous battles he could use as inspiration to test his students in the next assignment. He was still distracted, though, and half his mind remained focused on the upcoming ball...

Homeroom professors weren’t expected to dance...or at least Byleth highly doubted he would see Hanneman or Manuela on the dance floor. However, judging by the way everyone was discussing it, it seemed that the members of the academy—from the students, to the faculty, to Rhea—were expecting him to enjoy the ball with his students.

For whatever reason—likely his age—Byleth had been singled out as the only professor who was fair game during the ball. The most annoying part? Byleth was expected to be  _ grateful  _ for being put in this awkward situation. If it were up to him, he would abstain from going altogether. But that wasn’t really an option. If he didn’t go, it would ruin the entire event for his students—apparently.

Byleth turned his attention to the game board again. The enemy side of the board was finished, now he had to set up the troops that would be available to his students. He drummed his fingers on the wood, thinking back to the mission he had in mind and what types of mercenaries had joined him and Jeralt to drive out the rioting forces. His mind wandered to the inn they had been staying at that night.

A young woman had been flirting with Byleth that night, making suggestive comments and playing games with him. Well, she was flirting with him, but it was all the same wasn't it? Flirting was just some sort of 'game' higher class members of society played when they wanted to court each other or sleep with them without being forward about it. ...Irritating.

Feeling annoyed, Byleth had simply asked the woman if she was trying to bed him. That was clearly her intention and yet she had tried to slap him for saying it. Byleth, on instinct, blocked her attack. A fight nearly broke out because of this, but Jeralt had been there to diffuse the situation. 

Byleth frowned. Jeralt had given him a lecture that day about talking so bluntly to a woman, as if he was some kid. Byleth didn't understand the issue then and he didn't understand it now. He had done nothing wrong. It had been her intention to bed him, hadn’t it? That’s why women flirted? He wasn't interested. He just wanted her to get to the point so he could refuse and get to his room.

"My, you're starting to sound  _ awfully  _ bitter right now," Sothis noted.

Byleth sighed.

He didn't want to admit it, but she was right. It probably was his fault. Flirting  _ was  _ some type of game. It was a game with rules that everyone somehow understood. Everyone except him. It was a game he had no interest in, was not skilled at, and therefore couldn't win. 

If the students wanted to play this game, then so be it, but Byleth simply didn't want to be involved in it. He preferred the much more candid relationship he shared with them.

The board was finished and Byleth re-examined it, placing his chin in his hand. The only way he could 'win' the game is if he didn't play. But how would he go about that? You were expected to dance with anyone who requested it...

"Oh, will you not just enjoy yourself?" Sothis pouted.

Byleth ignored her comment for the time being, taking a moment of pause to think the situation over.

"...Sothis, if you were to attend the ball with a date, you would be expected to spend your evening with them, right?" Byleth asked. "It would be rude to leave your date to dance with someone else."

"How should I know?" Sothis frowned. "I needn't remind you that I lack a body of my own. And my host certainly hasn't given me any opportunities to observe these sorts of occasions."

Byleth nodded. He felt his logic was sound. Bringing a date was an excuse to politely and inoffensively turn down anyone who wanted to dance.

"Of course, you would then be at the beck and call of your date," Sothis reminded him. "You would have to dance with them all night. For hours on end should they desire."

Byleth hadn't considered that.

"I need to go with someone who also doesn't want to dance," Byleth decided.

"How boring..." Sothis sighed.

Who were his options? The faculty wasn't going to attend, so that left the students. Most likely his students. Then again...Edelgard  _ had  _ offered to accompany him to the ball...although Byleth had rather bluntly rejected her, not wanting to dance. This was before he had realized getting a date was perhaps his only way to get  _ out  _ of dancing.

"She did seem rather put off by your refusal," Sothis remarked.

"I could say I changed my mind," Byleth suggested. 

"And she would most certainly want to dance with her dear professor," Sothis pointed out.

Byleth frowned. This was true. When he told Edelgard he didn't really know how to dance that well, she seemed all too excited to teach him. Yes, she definitely wanted to dance.

"Still, if I need to dance one way or another, it may as well be with Edelgard," Byleth muttered.

"Ah yes, quite a pair you two would make. The Adrestian Princess and the academy's favorite professor," Sothis chuckled.

Byleth didn't respond. Once again, Sothis had a point. The two of them together would draw too much attention. It was one thing to make a fool of himself in front of his students who were his close allies maybe even...his friends. He felt comfortable with them. But he certainly didn't want all eyes in the academy focused on him while he was tripping and stumbling with the Imperial princess.

"Who's left then?" Byleth wondered aloud.

"The pink haired girl—oh yes, Hilda. Maybe she would agree?"

"You think Hilda would be content to spend the night without dancing?" Byleth asked with a quirked eyebrow.

"Perhaps." Sothis mused. "If you let her off next month's assignments."

"No."

"What about Flayn? Surely she would help you."

"Probably." Byleth muttered, putting a hand to his chin. "But I don't think that's a good idea."

"And why would that be?" Sothis wondered.

"Flayn's...excited. She would want to dance as well. Also..." Byleth paused, looking uncomfortable.

"Yes?"

"There's Seteth."

"You're on friendly terms now, aren't you?"

"Yes, but not  _ that  _ friendly."

"Haha, I had no idea you were so fearful of him." Sothis teased.

"I'm not." Byleth said honestly. "Still better to avoid complications."

"I see." Sothis said, trying to contain her laughter.

Byleth just sighed in response.

"I don't think Leonie would want to dance." Byleth considered. "But if I asked her on the condition that we don't..."

"She would be insulted." Sothis finished.

"Agreed." Byleth nodded. "I doubt she would accept an invitation under those conditions. But if I didn't suggest it, I doubt she would offer to dance on her own volition."

"Perhaps. But how would you spend your night?"

Byleth paused. He hadn't considered that either.

"Eating food. Talking about Jeralt. ...Possibly getting into a fight." Byleth groaned. "We normally get along but when we're alone..."

"I'm aware." Sothis nodded.

He didn't know why, but Leonie was prone to lose her cool whenever she was alone with him. It always revolved around some kind of one-sided rivalry. Or Jeralt. Or both. Leonie was very defensive when it came to Jeralt.

"That other girl. Marianne. I don't think she's likely to come." Sothis pondered.

"No. And...I never know what to do when I'm around her." 

Byleth did care about Marianne. In fact, among all of his students, he worried about her the most. But he never knew how to best approach her problems. He wasn't a sociable person and often found himself at a loss when speaking to Marianne. She needed to talk to someone and...he wasn't good at it. 

What improvement Marianne had seen, Byleth credited to the support of his other students...although Claude claimed that their many successes as the Golden Deer had done much to build Marianne's confidence. And that Byleth was to be credited for all they achieved. Byleth wasn't sure if he could agree to that, but if he was somehow responsible for improving her condition...he was glad.

"It's best avoided. You shouldn't force her to come," Sothis insisted.

"I doubt Marianne would be interested in joining me at the ball after our practice sessions."

"True. And if you told her that you didn't want to dance—"

"She would blame herself," Byleth sighed. 

It was a miserable thought. There was quiet for a moment before Sothis spoke again.

"I suppose there's but only one option left." Sothis smiled and her voice turned playful. "...Lysithea. A young girl and her professor." 

Byleth blinked.

"She would probably accept an invitation," he considered for a moment. "Or at least she seems to like me well enough."

"'Well enough'?" Sothis scolded. "She's overjoyed when you're together! Don't pretend you haven't noticed!"

"I suppose," Byleth muttered non-committedly. 

It was true, there was a noticeable shift in Lysithea's demeanor whenever she was in Byleth's company, especially when they were alone. But Byleth had always attributed this to Lysithea being eager to learn from her professor, rather than it being connected to Byleth personally. 

Byleth wondered...was her positive response truly because of him and not simply his new profession? It was a possibility, but he certainly didn't understand why that would be the case. He wasn't exactly friendly or fun to be around. Still...

"Ahhh, this pleases you, does it?" Sothis smirked.

Byleth wasn't fully convinced. After all, Lysithea was very studious. Surely she would be excited to see  _ any  _ professor who would assist her in his growth, not just him. 

...Although, Sothis wasn't wrong. He didn't know how best to describe the feeling, but the idea that his presence was somehow enough to make someone happy...it was nice.

"Well...if it would make her happy, I suppose I could invite Lysithea," Byleth suggested warmly.

"Finally coming around, are you?" Sothis said in a motherly tone.

There was a moment of silence as Byleth considered the prospect. Truthfully he wasn't sure how Lysithea would feel about dancing. She hadn't been that excited about the White Heron Cup, but then she did seem to enjoy teaching him the basics of dance. 

Thinking back, Byleth noticed that Lysithea seemed to enjoy reversing the roles and teaching him new things. She was often teaching him about Fodlan's history and politics, had leapt at the chance to tutor him in magic, and was usually the first to volunteer when Byleth had trouble with other minor tasks...including dancing. Although that could be troublesome when it came to the ball.

"I wonder, if I said I didn't want to dance, would she be content to sample treats—" Byleth pondered, only to be cut off by a sharp tongue.

"Ugh! Is that all you're concerned about?" Sothis snapped, her voice rising.

Byleth turned, and although his face didn't show it, he was a bit alarmed at Sothis' sudden change in tone.

"Have you ever once thought about the others and how  _ they  _ would like to spend this night?" Sothis continued angrily. "Of course not. You're such a child sometimes, so focused on yourself."

Byleth's heart sank. She wasn't wrong. He  _ hadn't  _ been considering how his attitude might affect the students. His behavior right now was no different than Hilda's when she wanted to get out of training, or Claude's when he made excuses for his slacking. Byleth had been so focused on getting out of his own obligation that he had been willing to ruin the ball for one of his students. He was their professor...and clearly he needed to set a better example.

"Sorry..." Byleth muttered.

Sothis didn't reply. Byleth could feel a sense of anger being directed at him, but he couldn't tell if he was experiencing Sothis' feelings...or his own. At any rate, Sothis was clearly in no mood to speak to him anymore.

Byleth glanced to the clock again and sighed. He didn't have time to mull this over, his next lecture was about to begin and he needed to get going. 

For now, it was probably best he abandon the idea of finding a date. Byleth would simply attend the ball alone and hope for the best. Besides, with the monastery's current threats on the loose, he didn't have time to fuss about something so trivial...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First time writing Sothis...at least I think so. I may have had other attempts in scrapped one shots. Not as difficult as Flayn, but she does have a bit of unique way of speaking I always need to consider. I'm more worried that I may have written Byleth to be a bit too angsty in this, but I did want to cover some of his buried emotions.
> 
> I'm glad I was able to get these up on time, but unfortunately it may be awhile before I can get the next two up. The first one is going to need some polishing and I'm having a bit of a trouble trying to figure out how to handle the second one. Hope you all enjoyed though, Merry Christmas!


	9. Recollection and Regret (White Clouds: 12/25)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Making good on a promise she made to herself, Lysithea follows her professor into the Goddess Tower to confess her feelings. However...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew...Chapter 10. Honestly, I didn't think I would make it this far. Sorry about the delay. I wasn't too sure about whether to post this chapter or not. Debated with myself whether it was good enough to make it in or if it was a bit redundant, since most of you were likely aware what was being referenced when Lysithea decided she was going to share her feelings.
> 
> ...But thanks to some encouragement, I decided to post it. I hope you enjoy!

**White Clouds**

**The Cause of Sorrow**

**Day 25 of the Ethereal Moon**

The Garreg Mach Ball. A night of festivities, fun, and romance. The monastery was open to all on this night and it was bustling with the activity of excited students, townspeople, merchants, and influential members of Fodlan society. 

Spirits were high as the students danced, mingled, and reunited with visiting family members, for many among Fodlan’s nobility had come to attend as well. To further add to the air of levity, there was plenty of entertainment, food...and drink.

Being a place of religion, alcohol was normally in short supply within the monastery. Faculty members such as Captain Jeralt, Professor Manuela, and Catherine usually had to rely on merchants for their drink and although Fodlan had no age limit to drinking, monastery rules forbade merchants from selling alcohol to students.

Tonight, however, was the exception and the church spared no expense in providing the finest of wines and champagne. Faculty members and students alike were taking full advantage of this opportunity.

Although many students were eager to reunite with their families, not everyone shared this mindset. Bernadetta had left her room to attend the festival, but only because her room had been thoroughly searched by her father, Count Varley. Bernadetta could be spotted flitting about the monastery, constantly evading his efforts to find her.

Meanwhile Marianne had been unwillingly dragged to the ball by her adoptive father, Margave Edmund, who had embarrassed the poor girl by giving her a stern lecture about proper noble edicate in front of everyone and demanded she go out and dance.

Of course, Margrave Edmund was not the only member of the Alliance nobility to attend. Count Gloucester had been spotted prepping Lorenz before the dance—likely instructing his heir on who would be appropriate to court during the ball. And although Duke Riegan had been unable to join, due to his advanced age, Lysithea could have sworn she spotted Claude speaking to Lady Judith.

Unfortunately Duke Riegan was not the only Alliance noble who had been unable to attend. Lord Host had sent a letter, indicating that the Almyrans were likely anticipating his absence and preparing to attack Fodlan's Throat. Hilda, however, didn't seem even remotely bothered by this. According to her, Holst had always been overprotective when it came to her romances.

Lysithea too received a letter from her father, Count Ordelia, who was also unable to attend. The letter explained that the situation at Ordelia territory was still unstable and neither of her parents could afford to leave. This was no surprise to Lysithea, for she had been assisting in her territory's governance since she was a child and well understood the poor shape Ordelia was in.

In addition to her parents' apologies and heartfelt love, the letter also included a plea that Lysithea try to enjoy herself and have fun at the ball instead of spending the night studying alone...they knew her well. 

Incidentally, it was for this very reason that a small part of Lysithea was glad her parents weren't in attendance. Tonight...she was going to do something bold. And it would have been much more difficult to work up the courage had her father been supervising.

Today was the day...Lysithea was going to come forward to the professor. She was going to find an opportunity to confront him, alone, and confess her feelings. And no matter what happened, she wouldn’t behave like a child. If her feelings were not reciprocated, she would accept this—maturely—and move on. No sense in wasting time over this.

At first, it had seemed as though confronting Byleth on his own would be easy. Her dour and sulky looking professor stood out as a stark contrast to the rest of the lively students, not drinking like the others, nor dancing, nor even socializing. He simply observed the ballroom floor, glazed expression, and looking absolutely bored.

...But then Claude had come and ruined everything. Just as Lysithea was about to approach her professor, Claude approached him first, gave Byleth a playful wink, and grabbed his wrist, pulling him onto the dance floor. Lysithea froze in the midst of her approach and stared in absolute horror at this gesture. Byleth too had shown a rare moment of surprise when Claude had suddenly placed his free hand on the professor’s waist and twirled him, causing the onlookers to howl with laughter.

Just as Byleth pulled away from Claude, however, several girls began to crowd around him, all begging to be his dance partner. It would have been rude to reject them, so Byleth had no choice but to dance with them. All of them. One after the other. Flayn, Dorothea,  _ Manuela,  _ Hilda, Ingrid, Flayn...again, Hilda, Edelgard, Petra, even Leonie danced with him! 

It soon became apparent that Leonie clearly had her fill to drink. It was all Byleth could do to keep her from falling over and, in addition to this, her dancing was unusually erratic and sloppy. Several aggressive, drunken twirls from Leonie had been enough to send Byleth falling on his back. This caused more laughter from the on-looking students and, while Catherine escorted Leonie away to recover, the girls continued swarming the professor.

Lysithea observed this for some time, arms folded. It never seemed to end. And some students were asking for repeat dances. Could they truly not see that the professor was uncomfortable? Lysithea considered breaking it up and simply requesting that she speak to her professor privately but...the crowd had gotten too big. Asking to see him alone would only draw unwanted attention.

The situation was beginning to look hopeless as Flayn approached the professor yet again, to ask for a third dance. But just as Lysithea was on the verge of giving up, she heard a slight gasp from Flayn. Seteth had finally found his dear sister and was making his way through the crowd of students to get to her. Packing, Flayn ushered Byleth away, and just as another girl was about to propose to dance, he vanished. Confusion broke out among the students as they all called out for their professor.

“Professor, may I—wait what?”

“Professor?”

“Where did he go?!”

"PROFESSOR!"

During the confusion, Byleth had taken this opportunity to duck into the crowd,and practically sprinted outside, unheard over the music and the chattering students. Lysithea, who had been watching him intently this entire time, was the only one to notice where he ran off to.

This was it! This was her chance to finally confront him! Lysithea quickly and quietly made her way outside as many of the students, the ladies in particular, continued calling out for their missing teacher.

As Lysithea headed out, she managed to spot the professor outside, back turned to her. Perhaps it was her imagination, but the professor seemed to be talking...to himself. This only lasted for a moment, however, for soon after he set off at a brisk walk.

Lysithea quickly followed after him, trying to keep pace while remaining silent. Easier said than done. Byleth moved quickly and he was considerably taller than her, she practically had to run to keep up. Thankfully her professor stood out like a sore thumb among the townspeople, merchants, and performers. Lysithea smiled...her professor was the only one she knew who would wear  _ armor  _ to a formal ball.

Despite this, however, he really was fast and Lysithea had nearly lost track of him twice. Once when he made several sharp turns and another when she had mistakenly assumed he was headed in the direction of the dormitories. She initially thought he would be retiring to his quarters, but this wasn’t the case. Instead, Byleth was moving in the direction of the cathedral.

It was very fortunate that this was a crowded event. Lysithea had been taught the basics of stealth at the academy and her grades were as good as ever, but until now she had never put these skills to the test. The professor was known to be notoriously alert and difficult to sneak on. If this had been any other day, he would have immediately caught her.

She followed him, past the gardens, across the bridge, into the cathedral and—Lysithea’s heart stopped. He was heading into the  _ Goddess Tower!  _ This was bad. She couldn’t follow him in there, for the Goddess Tower was only open to the faculty, not the students.

Lysithea now understood why the professor had come all the way out here. His quarters were likely the first place those girls would go looking for him. But the Goddess Tower was far removed from the rest of the monastery and it was forbidden to students. Herself included. Lysithea sighed...he was safe there.

Just as Lysithea was about to turn back, however, she paused for a moment. An idea was forming in her head...perhaps this was a sign? The Goddess Tower was a place where young couples would go to make their vows—vows that the Goddess was sure to grant. Because it was off limits, it was often seen as a place of 'forbidden love'. 

Forbidden love...such as the romance between a teacher and his student? Perhaps it wasn't just coincidence that the professor led her here?

After a series of events that occurred 13 years ago, House Ordelia wasn't particularly religious. In the eyes of other nobles they had 'lost their way', but Lysithea herself was still a believer in the goddess. At least enough of a believer to excel in faith-based white magic and hold on to the hopeful idea that an afterlife awaited her.

But despite being a devout follower, Lysithea had a hard time convincing herself that this preordained. Surely the goddess had better things to do than focus on Lysithea's crush.

It was highly unlikely that a higher being orchestrated these series of events to her benefit, but it didn't matter. The opportunity to join the professor in the Goddess Tower had come up and Lysithea wasn't going to let it pass. She was going in!

Lysithea stepped towards the tower, but hesitated, wondering how the professor would react upon seeing her. Surprised to see his student? Angry that she had broken the rules? ...Maybe creeped out that she had managed to find him when he was clearly trying to sneak away? Lysithea blushed. She hoped it didn’t come across that way.

But just in case, Lysithea was going to need to gauge the professor's reaction and have an excuse ready in case he was upset with her rule breaking. Maybe she could play dumb? Pretend she didn’t know that this was the Goddess Tower? ...It wasn’t a good excuse and probably an insult to the professor’s intelligence but she didn’t have anything else.

As for following him, Lysithea could say she had been hoping for a dance? ...No, that was a bad idea. The professor had come here to  _ get out _ of dancing. Lysithea had to come up with something else. Thinking on it, how  _ was  _ she going to reveal her feelings to him? 

_ ‘Professor, I think I’m madly in love with you!’ _

Lysithea groaned...clearly she hadn't thought this out at all.

Depending on his initial reaction, she would have to lead the conversation in a way that focused on romance, so that she could casually bring up her feelings. Lysithea took a deep breath and a part of her wished she had taken a shot of alcohol to soothe her nerves before trying this. But she had delayed long enough, it was time to do this!

Hands shaking and getting clammy at the very idea of doing this, Lysithea tentatively stepped inside. 

_ ‘How likely is the professor to reciprocate my feelings?’  _ Lysithea wondered as she made her way up the stairs. 

Would he see her as too young? Too immature? ...Too much of a child? No, of course not. Lysithea felt she could at least count on that much.

Perhaps the professor had never considered an intimate relationship. Even so, would he at least give her a chance? Being disinterested didn't necessarily mean he was opposed. Surely, he acknowledged that they would make a great pair, right? Both tactical, hardworking, intelligent, skilled on the battlefield, and they enjoyed each other’s company...or at least that’s what she hoped.

It suddenly occurred to Lysithea that the professor might not be in the mood for romance, that he might view her as simply another desperate woman pining for his attention and get annoyed with the situation altogether. Before today, she would have never considered this a possibility.

But there was no time to worry about it anymore. The professor was directly in front of her, staring over the balcony. She gulped.

“Professor?” Lysithea’s voice was uncharacteristically timid.

“Yes?” Byleth responded, his usual monotone voice showing signs of weariness. 

He turned to face her and although his face was stony as ever, Lysithea could detect a trace of relief in his expression. This was a good sign.

“I saw you wandering off to this tower. I thought you might be lost or something, so I followed you inside,” Lysithea fibbed.

Byleth frowned, clearly suspicious. In hindsight, it wasn't a very convincing lie. ‘This tower’ had obviously been his destination and it was hard to believe anybody would just wander this far out of the way by chance. But whatever his suspicions, Byleth wasn’t voicing them, and he wasn’t reprimanding her for entering a restricted area either...this was another good sign.

“Everyone seems to be looking for you. You're surprisingly popular,” Lysithea added, deciding it was best to keep the conversation going before he got  _ too  _ suspicious.

“That ‘surprises’ you, does it?” Byleth asked, his face still devoid of emotion, but his tone carrying a slight accusatory playfulness to it.

So far so good. They were carrying a normal conversation and the professor seemed to be enjoying her company. Now was a good time to lead the conversation to the subject of romance.

“I do find it surprising, yes," Lysithea said, keeping her tone friendly. "Particularly your popularity with the ladies. It isn't like you're very sociable, after all. Not to be rude, mind you.”

Despite her infatuation with him, Lysithea  _ was  _ being truthful when she said she was surprised at the professor's popularity. After all, didn't most women would prefer a well groomed gentleman who could readily express his feelings? Someone who would dote on them and take care of them? Someone who was sensitive, who would say what they wanted to hear?

The professor was none of this. He had trouble expressing himself, was blunt to the point of being rude at times, was always dressed for battle, and his hair was overgrown and unkempt. All the better in Lysithea's opinion, of course. She favored practicality, blunt honesty and criticism...and she hated being doted on—it made her feel like a child.

“How do you fare in such matters?” Byleth asked.

Lysithea froze. She had  _ not  _ expected that. Was the professor  _ really  _ asking her to indulge him with details on her romantic history? Strange that he assumed she had one, actually.

“Er, I wouldn't know, to be honest,” Lysithea said, at a bit of a loss on how to fully respond.

Yes, it was Lysithea who had directed the conversation around romance, but she thought they would be discussing the professor or the ball or maybe romance overall. Lysithea hadn’t expected the professor to press her on her own love life. She was his student, after all! 

Did the professor truly not realize how inappropriate his question had been? ...Then again, perhaps Lysithea wasn't in a position to judge. After all, she had just snuck into a forbidden section of the monastery, all so she could make a poor attempt at flirting with her teacher.

“I have no interest in such things,” Lysithea continued when Byleth didn’t respond. “The academy is for honing one's skills. Not for frivolous romances, despite what the other students may think.”

Lysithea was becoming uncomfortably aware of how defensive she was being, but Byleth simply nodded in agreement with her. ...Hopefully he was viewing her in a different light than the other girls who desperately and pathetically threw themselves at him—instead seeing Lysithea as a mature woman who didn’t allow herself to get distracted by such trivial things.

...Ironic then, that Lysithea had followed him here. That she was going through the greatest lengths to make the professor hers. But Lysithea couldn’t let that bother her now. She needed to keep the conversation going. They were discussing romance, but the conversation needed to change focus...to romance between them. Lysithea continued, speaking confidently in spite of her current nervousness.

“I overheard them gossiping about a place where a man and a woman can make a vow, and it is certain it will come to pass. Seems to be some folktale they enjoy. I wonder where this ‘place’ is...”

“The Goddess Tower?” Byleth suggested, his stony demeanor not matching his puzzled tone.

It was hard for him to believe that Lysithea was unaware of this legend. It was such common knowledge among the students that even  _ he  _ knew about it. And, when it came to knowledge on Fodlan’s history and lore, Lysithea knew more than anybody.

“Oh, of course! I recall now,” Lysithea exclaimed in mock surprise. “It's—wait. That's...that's here, isn't it?!”

Byleth simply stared at her. Not a moment ago Lysithea claimed she held no interest in romance, yet now she wanted to discuss a romantic legend of all things. She had done this after following him to the most romantic place in the monastery. And the timing of it all...could all of this truly be accidental?

“Uh, just to be clear, this is pure coincidence,” Lysithea continued, aware of how strange this must look. “I didn't follow you for...for that. ...But we are here alone, so people may wonder what our aim is. Let's get out of here before someone sees us and gets the wrong idea!”

At this point, Lysithea was anticipating the professor's curt nod or maybe a rare moment of flustered behavior from him, as he realized the awkward position they were in. The two would flee the tower, hide from prying eyes, and...and Lysithea wasn't exactly sure what would come next, but what she  _ hadn't  _ anticipated was her professor's next response...

“There's no need for panic,” Byleth calmly said without a trace of nervousness or embarrassment.

Lysithea was stunned. Was this possible? The professor truly wasn’t bothered at the idea of being seen with her?  _ Here  _ of all places? Perhaps he didn’t fully understand the situation, so she clarified.

“Are you saying you don't mind if someone sees us and thinks...we’re together?” Lysithea asked, her throat tightening.

“Why would I?” Byleth responded.

Lysithea blinked, surprised at his answer.

“I—well...um...” Lysithea paused, unsure how to phrase it. “It’s just...if people saw us together it would—I mean, wouldn’t you be...embarrassed? I am the youngest student after all...”

Lysithea sighed, her eyes turning downcast, looking rather defeated upon admitting it. Try as she might to feign confidence, she still had her insecurities. Many of them were rooted in the idea of being a child. Being useless or a burden. Being less of a woman or...unappealing. 

She knew a couple years age difference really wasn’t that much, and there were other girls close in age to her in the academy...but she was still the  _ youngest _ . Surely, the professor would want a real woman. Someone more mature than herself.

“I see.” Byleth frowned, placing a hand to his chin. “Are you embarrassed to be seen with me, then?”

Once again, Lysithea was taken aback at his response.

“I—no. Of course not! Why would I be?” 

“Well...I am the youngest professor after all.”

Lysithea stared at him, nonplussed for a moment. Was he trying to cheer her up? Or...maybe the professor just didn't get it? Lysithea considered his response for a few moments before bursting into a fit of giggles.

“Did I say something funny?” Byleth asked with a raised eyebrow.

“No—yes, you...you just say the oddest things sometimes, Professor,” Lysithea said, amid her laughter.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Lysithea insisted brightly. “But...you really don’t mind if people see us here?”

“Of course not. You are my best student, after all.”

“Aw, Professor...” Lysithea glanced aside bashfully, her cheeks turning red. “And you know, being the youngest professor is nothing to be embarrassed about either. I've always admired your dedication to your work as well your maturity.”

“The same to you,” Byleth replied.

“...You think I’m mature?” Lysithea asked, looking up to him wide-eyed.

The professor was always complimenting Lysithea on her hard work and tenacity, but getting praise for her maturity was rare. Even more rare was when anyone said it sincerely.

“I do.” Byleth looked down on her with an uncharacteristically tender expression. “I always have. You take our assignments seriously, you always work hard to excel, and you're brilliant. You're exceptional. The best student I could ask for.”

"I'm not  _ that  _ exceptional..." Lysithea mumbled modestly, unable to meet his gaze.

Truthfully though, despite her insecurities, hard work and sheer willpower were the two traits Lysithea truly prided herself in and she always strived to be her best.

"But you are," Byleth said, taking a step towards her. "You're determined, smart, strong...beautiful."

“P-Professor...!” Lysithea gasped breathlessly.

She stared at him, awestruck. She must have misheard him. She simply  _ must  _ have. That was the only explanation that made sense. He wouldn't joke like that! And even if he did find her attractive, there's no way the professor would be so forward with one of his students...unless...

"You came here to tell me something, right?" Byleth asked, his look all too knowing.

Lysithea gulped. If there had been an opportunity for her to abort this plan of hers, that time had long passed. She had reached the point of no return. And she doubted very much that she could fib to the professor about what was on her mind. Now was the time.

"Prof—um...P-P-P-Profes-s-s—or!" Lysithea exclaimed in a stuttering gasp, barely able to speak properly. 

Byleth just gave her a small but patient smile. 

"Professor I...I..." Lysithea took a long pause, unsure on whether she could go through with this.

He knew what she wanted to say, didn't he? He clearly figured it out. Why, oh why couldn't he have just brought it up himself? Why did she have to  _ say  _ it?!

"I..." Lysithea paused again, sweating nervously and her face completely red with embarrassment. "PROFESSOR, I THINK I'M IN LOVE WITH YOU!"

Lysithea whined internally, staring at her feet. Why had she felt the need to  _ yell  _ so loudly? Someone probably heard her confession just now and she completely embarrassed herself in front of the professor. Who knew what he was thinking now?

Byleth stepped towards her again and Lysithea felt him place his hand upon her head, stroking her hair for a moment, before moving his hand towards her chin and gently tilting her head upwards so she could face him. Lysithea weakly resisted for a moment, but eventually did turn her eyes towards him. For the first time since the Battle of the Eagle and Lion...the professor was truly smiling.

"I know you do," Byleth said gently, shifting his hand to caress her cheek. "And I feel the same way."

Lysithea went silent. Torn for a moment between two intense emotions. On one hand, she was absolutely furious with the professor right now. If he  _ knew  _ she felt this way, then for the love of the goddess,  _ why _ had he just forced her to admit it and embarrass herself?!

On the other hand...Lysithea felt overcome with absolute joy. Her feelings had been reciprocated. She had her professor's acknowledgement and his sincere affection. If they could be together, if her remaining 10 years could be at the professor's side...then that was enough for her. 

A part of Lysithea wanted to protest, wanted to again ask if she was mature enough for him. If the professor truly wanted to be with her. But she didn't. She couldn't. She was emotionally exhausted, her knees were weak, and she felt as though she could collapse into Byleth's embrace at any moment.

"Thank you..." Lysithea whispered, closing her eyes and nuzzling her cheek against his caressing palm. 

Those were the only words she could get out at the moment. It wasn't long before she was leaning against the professor's chest. He held her close with one hand while the other resumed stroking her hair. The two remained in this position for some time before the professor spoke again.

"Lysithea..."

Hearing the professor say her name like that gave her goosebumps. Lysithea looked up. The way Byleth was looking at her with his glazed eyes and relaxed smile...his face steadily moving towards her, it could only mean one thing. She was ready.

"Byleth..." Lysithea whispered. 

This was the first time she had ever called him by name. She stood on her tiptoes and placed her hands on his shoulders, using them as support as she extended herself to her fullest height, puckering her lips and leaning in.

"Lysithea..." Byleth repeated, his face now inches from her own "...wake up."

* * *

“Lysithea. Wake up.”

Lysithea’s eyes snapped wide open as she awoke with a jolt. Byleth was sitting on her bed, not stroking her hair, but ruffling it gently to get her out of bed.

“I—Professor, what are you doing here?!” Lysithea gasped, pulling her covers up to her chin.

Lysithea wasn’t indecent, she was wearing a nightgown. But, in her delirious newly-awoken state, she was somehow under the impression that Byleth had been observing her dreams.

“Sorry. You didn’t answer when I knocked,” Byleth explained. “We need to get moving. Now. Demonic Beasts have been sighted at the chapel. Get dressed and contact the others. I'll meet you at the chapel.”

“Right...” Lysithea mumbled groggily. “I’ll see you there, Professor.”

Byleth nodded and headed out, closing the door behind him.

Lysithea sighed, trying to clear her head. How late was it? Did she sleep in? If so, this would have been the first time in years. Normally Lysithea would have never slept in unless she was incredibly sick...then again, she didn’t get much sleep at all last night.

She grumbled slightly as she forced herself out of bed and went to fetch her academy uniform. Many of the students had stayed up longer than usual for the ball, Lysithea included. However, unlike the other students, Lysithea had a very difficult time falling asleep when she made it back to her room. Her time with the professor at the Goddess Tower...it hadn't been nearly as romantic as her dream. In fact, last night...had been a disaster.

Although Lysithea hadn't cried, she had come very close...which meant something because, despite her tendency for emotional outbursts, Lysithea rarely ever cried. Her tears had dried up a long time ago. Even so, she found herself extremely upset and utterly humiliated upon returning to her quarters.

Lysithea was used to being humiliated by now. Locked up in a cage with only a bucket to do her 'business', fed from a trough, poked, prodded, and given  _ thorough  _ physical exams. Being treated and talked to like an animal. Not even allowed to bathe in privacy. Yes, compared to all that, the situation at the Goddess Tower hadn’t been so bad.

However one thing was different. Back then, she could direct her anger and frustrations towards someone else. The people who put her through that pain. Now? The only person Lysithea could direct her anger towards was herself. Even the professor couldn't really be faulted for what happened last night, he hadn’t done anything wrong. Lysithea was the only one to blame...

Lysithea sighed. Last night she had pointed out the implications that came with the two of them being seen in the Goddess Tower and had suggested they leave. The professor, in response, had merely told her there was no need to panic. That much had come to pass, just like her dream. What came after, however, was very different.

_ “There's no need for panic.” _

What had the professor meant by that? At first, Lysithea had assumed that the professor simply didn't mind the gossip...which suggested that he was comfortable with the idea of being...with her. Or at least seen with her.

Soon after, however, Lysithea had considered another possibility. Perhaps the professor simply believed there was no danger of gossip. After all, who would believe the professor was in a relationship with some  _ lost child. _

Lysithea clenched her fists. Yes, in her moment of insecurity,  _ that  _ was how she viewed herself. As some pathetic, sniveling, lost child who was deluding herself with the idea that her professor would reciprocate her feelings. In fact, that's how she saw herself now. As a child who had thrown a fit and yelled at her teacher, despite the fact he clearly had no idea what was going on.

In reality, it hadn't been that bad. Yes, she yelled at Byleth. Yes, she left him feeling confused and a little hurt. And yes, she had been unfair and assumed the worst without even asking Byleth what he had meant. But compared to the other boys in the Golden Deer house, Lysithea let him off rather easily and Byleth was the type who could quickly move past this sort of thing.

But in Lysithea's head, though, it was a completely different story. She remembered feeling heartbroken. Betrayed at the idea of being seen as a child by her professor, the person whose opinion mattered to her more than anyone else's...the one person Lysithea  _ trusted _ not to look at her as a child.

Screaming at him, hurling insults, jumping down his throat without giving him a chance to speak. Lysithea did no such thing, but that's how she remembered her behavior. And in any case, Lysithea knew she was in the wrong. She had known this the moment she left the Goddess Tower.

Whatever the professor's opinion on her, he would have never treated her like a child or suggested she wasn't womanly enough to be his partner. Of course he saw her as mature. That's why he had given her a Hero's Relic.

...That's why she had left the tower immediately after yelling. She was too embarrassed to stay. Too embarrassed to own up to her own insecurities. And she regretted that now. 

If she had only given the professor a chance to explain himself...what would he have said if Lysithea had merely bitten her tongue? Was it really possible that he did harbor feelings for her and that's why he wasn't embarrassed to be seen in her company?

But even if the professor felt that way then, Lysithea doubted he felt the same way now. Not after her outburst. But that wasn't really important anymore. At this point, she just wanted to be friends again. That's all that mattered to her right now. He had been in her room just a moment ago, but they hadn't been able to discuss—

Lysithea paused, suddenly remembering what Byleth had come for. She couldn't afford to drag her feet and worry about this any longer, there was an emergency at the chapel! Lysithea quickly finished changing and used her magic to send a message to the other students, explaining the situation and telling them to meet the professor.

As Lysithea left her room, she came to a decision. As soon as they returned from their mission, she would confront the professor and issue him a formal apology. No more secrets. She would tell him the truth about her behavior, no matter how embarrassing it was or how much she didn't want to do it. Humility was a small price to pay to preserve her relationship with the professor.

...Unfortunately for Lysithea, this reconciliation never came. In fact, after today, neither she nor Byleth would even remember the events of the Goddess Tower for some time. Something tragic was about to occur.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "This is the second fake out. How many times do you think my readers will put up with this?"  
> "Oh don't worry, it's fine. People love this stuff!"  
> "They do...? Alright then, but you're responsible if they come at me with pitch forks."
> 
> Alas no. No AU situation here as some people like to do with the Goddess Tower scene. For all intents and purposes, it happened as it did in canon, though I imagine Lysithea felt bad afterwards. As amusing and adorable as Lysithea's Goddess Tower event is, I do kinda wish there was a follow up to it in-game. Things feel a bit unresolved.
> 
> Anyway, I say this all the time, but it may take awhile for the next chapter to get up, due to post-holiday obligations and a bit of trouble with the chapter itself. I'll try to get it out ASAP though. Until then, happy New Year!
> 
> EDIT: For some reason two sets of notes are being generated? One is a copy of the notes I had for the first chapter. Even after deleting them, it remains below this set. Weird.


	10. A Form of Grief Part 1 (White Clouds: 1/2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the death of Captain Jeralt, the monastery is overcome with sorrow. For the first time in his life, Byleth is forced to face a torrent of intense emotion and come face to face with his own grief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew. Sorry that took so long. Honestly had a lot of writer's block with this one. I was originally going to post this all as one long chapter, but it was suggested I split it into a Part 1 and Part 2. Hopefully it won't take me as long to do the next part. Until then...enjoy!

**White Clouds**

**Where the Goddess Dwells**

**Day 2 of the Guardian Moon**

The Golden Deer students were gathered in their classroom, with only Leonie, Claude, and Byleth missing from their group. The air was heavy, the atmosphere was grim, and nobody said a word. Even Flayn and Raphael were looking dispirited. The former was gazing out the window at the stormy sky, a sense of melancholy hanging over her, while the latter was nibbling on a piece of meat, but without his usual enthusiasm and gusto. The events of last week were still fresh on their minds. 

Jeralt was dead. Monica killed him.

It was amazing how, just a few days ago, the Officer’s Academy had been abuzz with the aftermath of the ball. Discussions on the dance, students gossiping over one another’s romances, and even a rumor had circulated around Professor Byleth being involved in a lover’s quarrel at the Goddess Tower. Nobody had seen who he was with, but several people had reported shouting at the tower, and noted seeing their professor later exit said tower on his own.

But all of that had been forgotten. This was meant to be a time of joy. A honeymoon period for the students and their new romantic partners. Instead, the only thing being discussed was that Jeralt—  _ the  _ Captain Jeralt—was dead. And of all the ways he could have met his end, it wasn’t in the wake of a Demonic Beast horde, but instead at the hands of a young girl. A student. Monica.

Fear, paranoia, and sorrow gripped the monastery. The knights were having a particularly difficult time, for they had worked with Jeralt and knew him best. The students, more than anything, were fearful of this event. Jeralt was supposed to be the strongest man in Fodlan. A legend. The father of Professor Byleth. His equal, if not his superior, in battle. And he had been killed, just like that.

It was a popular belief among the students that Monica, like Tomas, had been an imposter. Or simply someone pretending to be a student. Under ordinary circumstances Hilda would have loved to partake in such juicy gossip and spread the conspiracy, but instead she was sitting in the corner with Marianne, arms wrapped around her friend’s shoulder in comfort. Marianne had been subjected to frequent bullying by other students, who cited her ‘odd behavior’ as evidence that she was the ‘next Monica’.

Marianne was not the only one to be affected by recent events. Aside from Byleth, Leonie had been closest to Jeralt, and although the other Golden Deer didn't know him as personally, Jeralt had spoken to them on occasion, usually in a group. The discussion often revolved around their professor.

Earlier in the year, Jeralt would often find time between missions to visit the Golden Deer students and tell stories of his son. He would speak of past mercenary contracts and discuss the unusual lifestyle Byleth led before joining the monastery. Sometimes he would explain the eccentric mannerisms Byleth was known for. Jeralt, of course, never dared to do this in the professor’s presence, but it had been endearing in a way. Like a parent trying to assist his shy child in making friends.

Lysithea sighed. Still no word from the professor. He hadn’t shown his face in a week. Thinking back on it now, she was likely the last one to see him. Lysithea remembered that day well. 

Demonic Beasts had attacked the chapel in overwhelming numbers and, with so many students' lives in danger, the situation was looking bleak. And yet, the Blade Breaker and Ashen Demon had reunited as an awe-inspiring duo and it was thanks to their leadership that the Golden Deer prevailed.

When the last Demonic Beast had been taken down, Jeralt and Byleth had rushed ahead to investigate the chapel. Anyone who could use magic had been ordered by their professor to heal the injured students, while the rest of the Golden Deer were supposed to search the area for others. When they finished, they were to rendezvous at the chapel.

The mages—Lysithea, Lorenz, Marianne, and Flayn—had been the first to catch up. When they arrived, several strange things had occurred in quick succession. First, the professor, seemingly caught by sudden madness, had attempted to kill Monica with the Sword of the Creator. 

The next moment, a pale skinned mage had appeared—completely out of nowhere—to block the attack. Finally, Jeralt’s crumpled body fell at Monica’s feet as she stabbed him in the back. Monica said something to the pale mage and the two disappeared without a trace.

Nobody had even thought to stop this mysterious mage. The events surrounding Jeralt’s death had been so odd and had happened so quickly that they could barely process it all. The next thing Lysithea remembered was the professor rushing to Jeralt’s side, the captain whispering his last words to his son and then...then...

It was with haunting clarity that Lysithea recalled what happened next. Leonie’s scream of pure anguish echoing across the field, as the others finally joined them and she caught sight of her fallen mentor. Leonie had rushed towards him, pleading that Jeralt wake up. Pleading, begging, sobbing hysterically for the captain to open his eyes.

When this failed, Leonie had turned to Marianne, demanding that she heal him. Unfortunately, reviving the dead was beyond Marianne’s power and, when she had feebly tried to explain this, Leonie wouldn’t hear it. It had taken the combined strength of Lorenz, Hilda, and Ignatz to keep her from lunging at Marianne.

With some time and effort, they had been able to drag Leonie away back to the monastery, her screams of pain and suffering continuing to echo across the field as they did so. Following this, Claude and Raphael gathered Jeralt’s body and worked together to carry it back to the monastery for a proper burial. 

That just left the professor. 

Alone. 

Kneeling in the rain and silently staring at the spot where Jeralt had previously been.

Lysithea couldn’t just leave him there. She offered her hand and it was with some reluctance that Byleth finally allowed her to lead him back to Garreg Mach with the others. The rain was pouring and Byleth refused to meet her gaze during the entire trip back, but Lysithea had a strong suspicion that her professor, perhaps for the first time in his life, had been crying.

When the two reached the monastery grounds, she had tried to guide the professor back to his quarters, but refused to follow. He released her hand and went his own way. No show of gratitude, no hint on where he was going. He had simply left without another word. Although it was obvious where he was headed...the Captain’s Office.

The professor hadn’t left the office since then. Not even to eat. Cyril had been instructed to bring the professor’s meals upstairs and leave them outside the office door. He was the only one allowed near the office. Lady Rhea had been clear that anyone seen disturbing the professor, student or faculty, would face strict repercussions.

The day after Jeralt’s death, on Saint Cichol Day, the sermon and songs had both been dedicated to Captain Jeralt’s memory. Every single female student—Leonie included—had offered to participate in choir that day, to honor the captain and to show support for their professor. And yet, despite it all, Professor Byleth had failed to attend.

Class on the 29th had been cancelled in light of recent circumstances...not that anyone had been expecting the professor to show up. And since Saint Cichol Day, Leonie too had withdrawn from the public eye, spending most of her time in her room or the nearby forest. During this time, she had been unreceptive to company and seemed to have lost the will to continue her training or do anything.

Lysithea looked towards the classroom door anxiously. No sign of Claude either. He was supposed to report to them when he finished speaking to the professor, but that had been some time ago. Had he been caught? Was Lady Rhea punishing him right now? Lysithea shivered slightly. She liked to believe she was respecting the professor’s privacy by not approaching him in his moment of grieving, but she couldn’t pretend that Lady Rhea’s frightening presence hadn’t swayed her in any way.

Some of the students argued against Claude’s decision to go speak to the professor. Lady Rhea had been absolutely clear in her orders to leave Byleth in peace and her tone had carried a threatening weight to it. But it had been a week, at this point the only thing that outmatched the student’s fear of Rhea was their concern for the professor. As such, Claude’s proposition to speak to him had gone largely unchallenged and what little resistance it did face had been feeble.

Lysithea glanced towards her classmates again. The scratching of Ignatz’s quill could be heard distinctly in the otherwise quiet classroom. With how fearful Ignatz had been acting over Jeralt’s death, it was hard to imagine him drawing at a time like this. Then again, she supposed artists did draw inspiration from their emotions.

Meanwhile, Lorenz took another sip of tea and stared pensively at his reflection from the cup’s surface. She had to admit, Lorenz truly did pull through for them this time. While Claude had taken the initiative to seek their professor out, it was Lorenz who brought the class back on track, reminding them that they couldn’t afford to lose heart during such a crucial time. It was their duty as nobles and students to avenge their comrade and bring these villains to justice. They had to prepare.

And that was exactly what Lysithea was doing now. She was working harder than ever to study battle tactics, all while pouring over magical tomes, hoping to find references to something that resembled Tomas’ shapeshifting disguise. Perhaps she could find methods of spotting and combating it. After all, they couldn’t afford to have even more imposters infiltrating the monastery.

Unfortunately, Lysithea’s research had not yet borne fruit. None of the books she read mentioned such a spell being used historically or even theoretically. However, with careful analysis, logical deduction, and her own knowledge on the nature of magic, Lysithea felt confident she at least had a basic understanding of the spell and its limitations. She would discuss this with the professor later...hopefully.

Suddenly the classroom door creaked open and everyone turned to see Claude and their professor stepping inside. Claude gave his fellow classmates a triumphant smirk while Byleth...looked as expressionless as usual.

For a moment, there was silence. As strange as it might seem, nobody expected to see their professor so calm. While this behavior was standard for Byleth, there was still the fact that he had lost his father. None of the students really know what to say. ‘Professor, how are you feeling?’ was the first thing that came to Lysithea’s mind, but it seemed such a redundant and silly thing to ask.

“See? Just like I told you,” Claude announced to his speechless classmates. “Teach isn’t the type to give into despair. He just needed time to sort things out.”

Another moment of silence. Was the professor  _ really  _ OK? Or was he just having a hard time showing his distress? That wouldn’t be too abnormal.

“I’m sorry for troubling you. But there’s no need to worry,” Byleth assured them, noticing their silence.

The students stared at him in awe. Not a trace of sadness when he spoke. He retained his usual monotone, perfectly even without even the slightest quiver in his voice, and all while keeping direct eye contact. Could he truly have moved on so quickly? Ignatz looked relieved, Lorenz impressed, Hilda and Raphael shocked, and Flayn suspicious. Lysithea didn’t know what to think.

“Professor, are you  _ quite  _ sure everything is well?” Flayn inquired, her brow furrowed.

Byleth shook his head.

“Not entirely,” Byleth admitted, knowing that it would only look suspicious if he claimed otherwise. “But there’s no use lamenting over it. Our enemies are preparing their next move. I must do the same.”

“ _ We  _ must do the same, Teach,” Claude corrected him. “We  _ are  _ your students, after all. There’s no way we’d let Tomas and his allies get away with this. Am I right?”

“Indeed. It is a noble’s duty to see that justice is delivered to the wicked,” Lorenz affirmed.

“Defeating the enemies who took down Jeralt...is that really possible?” Ignatz wondered nervously.

“Ha! One look at my biceps and they’ll regret making an enemy of us!” Raphael assured him vigorously.

“I...I will put forth my best effort. For the professor,” Marianne said, her soft voice filled unusual conviction.

“If that’s the case, then I guess I’ll have to try hard too,” Hilda chimed with a lighthearted sigh.

“After all they have done, Tomas and his ilk cannot be permitted to live. Professor, you have my support!” Lysithea declared.

“For the sake of our professor, we must prevail!” Flayn finished.

For the briefest moment, Lysithea could have sworn the professor’s expression had softened upon hearing this. But then again, maybe it was just her imagination, for the next moment his face was expressionless as ever.

“I see...” Byleth said quietly. “I’m glad to have such committed allies. Thank you.” 

He paused. 

“...Unfortunately, I need to catch up on my work. It was good to see you all again.”

Byleth gave a small bow and, without another word, turned around and went back outside. There was a relapse of silence upon his departure.

“Claude, are you quite sure all is well?” Flayn asked with a frown. “What state did you find him in exactly? What was he doing in the Captain’s Office all this time?”

“Going through Jeralt’s old things, reading a book.” Claude said vaguely.

Out of the corner of her eye, Lysithea could see Claude pocketing a small book as he said this.

“He...wasn’t bothered at all?” Raphael asked in disbelief.

“He seemed past it. I even got him to smile once,” Claude assured him in his usual relaxed tone.

“Incredible...” Ignatz murmured in awe. “Even after suffering such a great loss, the professor has managed to keep perfect composure.”

“His ability to remain level headed during such dire times  _ is  _ remarkable,” Lorenz agreed. “However, I can’t help but feel that something is off...”

“We can’t afford to worry about that now,” Claude said seriously. “Teach has got a lot on his plate and it’s on us to live up to our word. We need to be prepared the moment Tomas and Monica—Uh, Solon and uhh...we’ll keep calling her ‘Monica’ for now. We need to be ready for battle the moment they’re found.”

Everyone nodded in agreement, including Flayn, though she still had her suspicions. She was older and wiser than her appearance might suggest, and she knew from personal experience the difficulty in moving past a parent's death.

* * *

**White Clouds**

**Where the Goddess Dwells**

**Day 5 of the Guardian Moon**

“Alright, let’s call it a day,” Claude yawned, putting away the game pieces.

“Huh? But it’s only noon,” Lysithea protested. “Surely you’re not already tired.”

“True, but class is starting soon,” Claude reminded her as their fellow Golden Deer began entering the classroom. “And I doubt our substitute will be as patient as Teach if we leave our belongings lying around.”

“Oh...I see...” Lysithea sighed, joining Claude as he stored everything away.

The students of Officer’s Academy were known for losing their possessions around the monastery, and while most faculty members might throw these away or toss them into the mountain of Lost and Found items, Byleth had a bizarre habit of seeking out the owners and returning lost items...even if said item was a piece of tossed garbage. 

Seteth used to reprimand the professor for this behavior, claiming that it only encouraged bad habits among the students, although this didn’t stop Byleth from returning Seteth's lost fishing rod to him too.

Lysithea recalled that just last month the professor had returned her princess doll. ...Yes, a princess doll. Something a child would own. Still, it had been a gift from her father and it held sentimental value to her. Lysithea would have been crushed if someone threw it away and mortified if anyone else had found it. Strangely, she wasn’t all that bothered when the professor returned it to her...in fact it was a bit comforting for someone to acknowledge her more childish qualities without judging her for it.

However, monastery cleanliness wasn’t what was bothering Lysithea right now...

“Do you know who’s teaching us?” Lysithea asked with a small frown.

“No clue,” Claude replied, stowing away the game board. “I figured it’d be Professor Hanneman or Professor Manuela, but I haven’t gotten any notice about changing classrooms, have you?”

Lysithea shook her head. Strangely enough, she had forgotten all about their scheduled class time. She knew the professor wouldn’t be able to teach after losing his father, but the idea of having class without him felt...wrong somehow.

“You don’t suppose it could be a knight filling in, could it?” Lysithea asked.

“Nah. With the search still going on, the church is really short handed on knights. I doubt there’s any left that are qualified enough to step in for Teach,” Claude reasoned. “Though I suppose there’s always Seteth...”

“Flayn would have told us,” Lysithea pointed out.

“Fair point,” Claude nodded, staring in thought. “Well, I guess we’ll see soon enough.”

Claude made his way to his usual desk and Lysithea, instead of sitting in front like she normally would, made her way to the back of the class. For the first time since joining the academy, Lysithea wasn’t looking forward to her next lesson. Were it not for the fact that she was already in attendance, she might have even considered faking illness.

Since Jeralt’s death, Professors Hanneman and Manuela had taken over Byleth’s duties. Lysithea discovered this when she came to attend one of Byleth’s seminars, only to find Hanneman and Manuela giving it in his stead. Hanneman focused on tactics while Manuela focused on swordplay. Their instruction, while professional, had been...less than ideal for Lysithea.

Like most teachers, Hanneman and Manuela went by the book. And while reading was a great way to learn, Lysithea didn’t need a teacher to read to her. She was more than capable of doing this on her own. She needed someone to truly challenge her individually.

After all, the reason the Golden Deer had completely obliterated their opponents during the Battle of the Eagle and Lion wasn’t simply due to the student’s hard work like the professor claimed, or due to the Sword of the Creator like Claude claimed. It was because the Golden Deer had received the best education between the three houses.

Professor Manuela had many other duties and passions besides teaching. Healing, medicine, singing, and dating for example. Meanwhile Hanneman was the Father of Crestology. When it came to his priorities, being a teacher came at a distant second to Crest research.

Byleth, however, only had one job title: Professor. He was the newest faculty member in the monastery, the least experienced, had the fewest obligations, and was probably given the lowest expectations out of everyone. And yet, despite all of this, her professor worked his hardest, dedicating everything he had to his lessons and his students, inside and outside of the classroom.

While not the most sociable person, the professor worked individually with each student to help them succeed, tutoring Raphael, encouraging Hilda, and providing Claude and Lysithea with the most challenging assignments, separate from the other students, to keep them both engaged. 

Under his tutelage, Lysithea had even managed to develop her own style of swordplay that she now used in conjunction with her magic. This was the sort of thing, she couldn’t learn from a book, it was something she could only learn from a dedicated teacher.

“ _ There  _ you are, Lysithea!” Hilda called, heading in her direction alongside Flayn and Marianne.

“Oh, hey, Hilda. Did you need something?” Lysithea asked, looking up.

“We were planning on buying some flowers for Leonie and the professor. I thought maybe you would like to chip in.” Hilda said, smiling and offering a card for Lysithea to sign.

“Flowers, huh?” Lysithea asked, digging into her pocket for gold. “That’s pretty thoughtful of you, Hilda.”

“Oh no, this was all Marianne’s idea! Right Marianne?” Hilda said brightly.

“O-Oh um...” Marianne mumbled staring at her feet. “Well...the professor sent flowers on my birthday. They made me feel a little better so...I thought we could send flowers to him too. And Leonie.”

Lysithea blinked, impressed that Marianne was showing initiative.

“I wholeheartedly agree,” Flayn said cheerfully. “This is most certain to brighten the professor’s day!”

“Will this cover it?” Lysithea asked, handing Hilda some gold.

“That’s perfect, thanks!” Hilda said. “And don’t forget to sign the card, OK?”

Lysithea nodded, adding her signature to the card and returning it to Hilda. As she did so, footsteps were heard right outside the classroom door.

“Oh! That must be our new professor. Let us return to our seats!” Flayn exclaimed.

The footsteps continued to approach and soon after, there was a creak as the doorknob turned to their classroom turn. The students all turned and stared in amazement as the door opened. The one who would be teaching them today wasn’t Hanneman or Manuela or any of the knights. 

It was Byleth. 

In spite of everything that had happened, their professor was still going to be instructing them.

“P-Professor?!” Ignatz exclaimed.

“Teach, what are you doing here?” Claude asked as Byleth made his way towards his desk, his cloak billowing behind him.

“Teaching,” Byleth answered plainly.

“I was under the impression that the archbishop had given you time off...” Lorenz frowned.

“Manuela and Hanneman are assisting with grading, and I won’t be hosting seminars this month,” Byleth corrected him. “But I am your professor and I will continue to supervise your training.”

Although the professor’s tone was as flat as ever, Lysithea couldn’t help but notice a small trace of pride in his voice as he said this. Almost as if it would be an insult to the professor's very dignity to allow someone else to mentor his students.

“We will continue where we left off on aerial combat but first...where is Leonie?” Byleth questioned, glancing around the classroom.

“She’s gone,” Hilda sighed.

“Leonie’s withdrawn herself, ever since—um, around the same time you did, Professor,” Lysithea added, avoiding the subject of Jeralt’s death.

Byleth frowned for a moment.

“I’ll see to her after class,” He said shortly, drawing various diagrams and formations on the board.

The day’s lesson went smoothly. Perhaps too smoothly in Lysithea’s opinion. The professor conducted himself professionally, never missing a step and not showing any signs of distress. Looking in on the lesson, one would think that their class wasn’t taking place in the wake of a tragedy. And yet...she couldn’t help but feel something was off. She just couldn’t place her finger on what it was.

The lesson concluded with Byleth handing out new assignments for the students, before heading outside the classroom, likely to seek out Leonie. Lysithea glanced at her own assignment, he was still giving her advanced material, which meant he was still putting in the extra effort for his teaching. As if nothing had changed...

“That was  _ so  _ weird!” Hilda exclaimed, wide-eyed as the professor left. “It’s like he wasn’t even affected by any of this!”

Lysithea couldn’t bring herself to act defensively over this. After all, Hilda was only saying what everyone else was thinking.

“It’s...inspiring,” Ignatz said. “Even when the rest of the monastery is in a state of panic, the professor has managed to stay strong.”

“I know the professor’s tough, but do you really think he isn't bothered by his pa's death?” Raphael asked with a concerned frown.

“Teach has got more important things to worry about,” Claude said airily. “After all, we wouldn’t stand a chance against Tomas and his kind if our fearless leader was still mourning.”

There was silence for a moment.

“I’m afraid I’m not convinced,” Lorenz said abruptly.

“Huh? What do you mean, Lorenz?” Hilda asked.

“What we saw today was little more than a charade. An act.” Lorenz clarified

“If that’s the case, then that’s certainly the most convincing 'act' I’ve ever seen,” Claude retorted, his voice unusually casual considering the situation.

“Precisely.  _ Too  _ convincing if you ask me,” Lorenz said, folding his arms.

“Well if that’s what you think...” Claude shrugged dismissively.

“I agree with Lorenz,” Lysithea said suddenly, now understanding what had seemed so off about their professor. “During class, the professor was completely inexpressive. ...Well, less expressive than usual, I mean. It’s almost like he’s trying to bury his feelings.”

Claude’s face noticeably darkened.

“If that’s true, then we need to help!” Raphael exclaimed.

“Our professor shouldn’t be teaching after experiencing something so tragic,” Flayn said worriedly.

“Hey, this is Teach we’re talking about,” Claude assured them. “I’m sure if something were bothering him, he’d talk to us, right? Right.”

For a moment, it seemed as though Claude had convinced them. Their professor was, after all, known for his very blunt and forward personality. However...

“Sometimes when we’re upset, we prefer to bottle our feelings...to avoid being a burden to those closest to us,” Marianne mumbled softly.

“I think Marianne's right,” Raphael added. “Back when my parents died, I tried so hard to keep myself from crying...I had to stay strong for my little sis. Maybe that’s what the professor’s doing?”

“It’s an unfortunate position a commander often finds themselves in.” Lorenz said thoughtfully. “They must maintain a positive demeanor when faced with great peril or morale will suffer.”

“Come on now, does that sound like the sort of thing Teach would do?” Claude asked, slowly losing his swagger.

“Admittedly no,” Lorenz said, his voice becoming colder. “Not unless our house leader requested he do so.”

Claude didn’t respond.

“You didn’t, did you, Claude?” Lysithea asked, her voice suddenly becoming deadly.

“Of course not—” Claude started, but paused upon seeing Lysithea’s expression; she looked prepared to kill him if he didn’t speak truthfully. "I mean...he seemed fine when I saw him, so I may have suggested that he smile and show everyone he's OK."

This was mostly true. However, Claude neglected to mention the fact that he had been pressuring their professor to smile, in spite of his sadness, for the sake of morale—much like Claude himself did—ever since the incident at Remire Village. 

It  _ was  _ possible that Teach had taken this to heart and was now trying to put on a bold face for the rest of the Golden Deer. But Claude wasn’t going to admit to that. Not when Lysithea was giving such a seething glare.

“Claude!” Lysithea exclaimed incredulously, taking a menacing step towards him. 

Claude recoiled, grateful that he hadn’t told them about the diary.

“As expected,” Lorenz sneered.

“Hey, all I did was tell Teach the truth,” Claude insisted. “You were all worried and wanted to see him, didn’t you?”

“Well yeah, but you can’t just ask him to be happy for  _ our  _ sakes,” Hilda said, shaking her head.

“It’s not good to bottle up your feelings like that," Raphael added. "Someone really ought to go talk to him.”

“Look, if we’re going to help, we can’t afford to get distracted,” Claude insisted. “We need to focus on taking down the ones responsible for Jeralt’s death. It’s the only way Teach is going to move on.”

“...For once, we’re in agreement,” Lorenz sighed. “As tactless as Claude may have been, it was our professor’s decision to remain focused at the task at hand.”

“It’s true,” Ignatz nodded heavily. “The professor has resolved himself to avenge Jeralt’s death. All we can do now is support him as he sees this through.”

* * *

The noise of chirping filled Garreg Mach's forest, as Leonie turned her attention to a distant clearing where several birds were feeding on the bait she had left. Now was her chance. Leonie gripped her bow and began to slowly inch her way towards the clearing, using the stealth skills taught to her by Shamir, Jeralt, and, of course, the hunters in her village.

So far, today’s hunt had been unsuccessful. With the captain’s death, Leonie found herself distracted and out of step, unable to keep up with her usual standards. Earlier today her aim had been completely off, and she managed to scare an unsuspecting rabbit into hiding. Sometime later, she tripped while hunting a fox, startling it and causing it to run off.

She had a lot on her mind today and, all things considered, she would have likely been better off fishing. But she couldn’t afford to let her skills rust, she had already wasted too many days sulking about the monastery without getting anything done.

Leonie began to sweat nervously as she continued approaching the flock of birds. She found herself getting annoyed at her sudden incompetence. If she couldn’t even hunt a measly bird, what good would she be when hunting down Jeralt’s killer? 

...Monica.

She remembered that day well. Defending the chapel... that had been their second mission with Jeralt. 

Prior to that, he had joined them at Remire Village. Due to the state of panic everyone was in back in Remire, Leonie hardly had a chance to enjoy the fact that she was actually working with the captain. Comparatively, the situation with the chapel had been a lot smoother. Everyone in the Golden Deer had done an excellent job in driving the Demonic Beasts back. 

And yet the only one Jeralt paid any attention to had been his son, their professor.

Leonie took a deep breath, finding cover near the clearing and choosing a bird to target. She prepared her bow...

Deep down, she knew that it was petty of her to be worked up over the professor’s relationship with Jeralt. She didn’t know  _ why  _ it bothered her so much, but it did. And recognizing that her feelings towards the situation were petty didn’t make them go away. 

She had no right feeling this way, not when the professor had just lost his father. ...But whether she liked feeling this way or not, she still did.

During the incident at Remire Village and during the attack on the chapel, Jeralt had never taken full leadership. Instead he and the professor had worked together, leading the Golden Deer...like partners. 

This had always annoyed her. When Leonie spoke to the captain, she spoke to him as a mentor, an idol. But when Byleth spoke to Jeralt, he didn’t speak like a son would to their father or an apprentice would to their master, instead he spoke to Jeralt the way a man would speak to another man.

That bugged Leonie more than anything else. The professor treated Jeralt as if he were just another student and not an inspirational knight or a legendary mercenary. And yet Leonie couldn’t call him arrogant for it...after all, Byleth allowed his students to treat him much the same way. 

Was it jealousy she felt? After all, working side by side with Jeralt as partners would have been a dream come true for Leonie. And yet, she couldn't say with certainty that it was jealousy she was feeling.

Leonie let out a sigh. The whole situation was really confusing her. Suddenly, the sound of flapping was heard. She had been careless, for upon hearing her sigh, the birds began taking off.

“Damn!” Leonie cried, quickly aiming her bow and trying to hit one of the birds before it could get out of range. 

In her state of panic, however, Leonie’s shot just barely missed and she wouldn’t have time to get in another arrow before—

_ Bang! _

A shot of Nosferatu soared through the air, hitting the bird that Leonie just missed, killing it instantly and sending it to the ground with a plop. Leonie turned to face the caster...it was Byleth.

“Oh, Professor, I didn’t see you there,” Leonie said in surprise.

“Sorry. I didn’t wish to disturb your hunt,” Byleth responded, fetching his quarry.

“Oh, it’s no bother,” Leonie assured him. “Nice shot, by the way.”

Byleth simply nodded.

“Jeralt always handled defeathering and preparation. But if you can do that, I can cook for us.” Byleth offered, holding out the bird.

“Oh...yeah, sounds great,” Leonie said in mild surprise.

Sometime later, when Leonie finished preparing the bird and Byleth finished cooking it, using black magic to start a fire, the two enjoyed their meal in relative quiet.

“...Mmm...hey, Professor, I forgot to ask...what are you doing out here?” Leonie questioned, in between bites.

“You missed today’s lecture.”

“I missed...? Oh, right! I completely forgot we had a lecture today. But—hang on...were you  _ teaching _ ?” Leonie asked, her eyebrows raised.

Byleth nodded.

“I’m just...surprised. I thought you would want the time off.”

“I’m not the type to wallow in solitude,” Byleth said, echoing Claude.

“I see...” Leonie frowned.

Was it possible that the professor was completely unaffected by Jeralt’s death?

“We haven't time to grieve yet,” Byleth sighed. “Once Monica is dealt with, we will mourn Jeralt.”

Leonie didn’t respond, but simply continued eating quietly. It was annoying to admit to herself, but right now...the professor sounded  _ exactly _ like Jeralt.

“...Is hunting a type of training for you?” Byleth asked after a period of silence.

“It is,” Leonie nodded. “It helps me work on my tracking and stealth. I get some shooting practice in too.”

Byleth nodded, taking another bite and mulling over his thoughts for a moment before speaking again.

“I notice you spar with many of the knights as well. Catherine, Shamir, Alois. You’re diligent in your training.”

“Oh, you’ve noticed that?” Leonie asked, smiling in surprise.

“I have.” Byleth said, taking another bite and pausing to swallow before continuing. “You never train with me, however. Is there a reason for that?”

“Huh? That’s not true, we’ve trained together before.” Leonie corrected him.

“As a class.”

“I stayed with you during your routine.”

“Once. And you were very tired.”

“I still outlasted you.”

“You did.” Byleth sighed, knowing there was no sense in arguing that it wasn’t a competition.

“Besides, I usually see you training with Lysithea. And sometimes Felix,” Leonie pointed out.

“Neither would object to an additional partner,” Byleth responded. “Sometimes the three of us train together. A three-way battle creates interesting challenges.”

“Well, your training schedule conflicts with mine.”

“I can change it.”

Leonie huffed. Why was the professor so concerned about who she was training with anyway?

“You don’t need to worry about me. Really, I’m fine,” Leonie assured him. “Besides, you three train with Crests and Relics. I’d probably just get in your way.”

“You’re making excuses.”

Leonie grimaced. The professor's blunt, almost rude way of speaking really did remind her of the captain. Almost as if Jeralt were speaking to her beyond the grave. Leonie didn’t know why, but this made her feel uncomfortable.

“Do you consider me a poor teacher?” Byleth asked.

Leonie shook her head.

“You and I have different fighting styles, that’s all,” Leonie insisted. “Your style relies on swordplay with some magic. Lysithea relies on magic with some swordplay. And you both like to really focus on your training. You two are a good fit for each other. I’m just more suited for training with the knights.”

Everything Leonie said was true, but...there was more to it. After all, Leonie had promised Jeralt that she would support his child if anything were to happen to him. And yet she could barely bring herself to spend time with the professor, let alone train with him.

Leonie had always liked to believe she was Captain Jeralt’s greatest apprentice, but if she were to fight the child of the captain, who would win? It didn’t matter if he was her professor. The idea of losing to the captain’s child was unbearable...

“The knights are out searching for Monica. They aren’t available for training right now,” Byleth reminded her.

“True, but neither are you.”

Although Leonie had become less active since Jeralt’s death, she was aware that the professor had become quite withdrawn as well..

“...You’re right,” Byleth admitted after a brief pause. 

Strangely, saying this seemed to sadden him deeply. His shoulders were hunched, his gaze was lowered, and he looked a bit defeated...as if he had just confessed to something shameful.

Leonie shifted guiltily. She had to remind herself that it was the _ professor’s _ father who had been killed, not hers. No matter how bad she was feeling right now, the professor probably felt worse...even if he didn’t look it.

“I’m sorry,” Leonie sighed. “I know you’re going through a rough time and I probably shouldn’t be so hard on you. Especially since I’ve been falling behind on my training too.”

“Why is that?” Byleth asked.

“I—what kind of question is that?” Leonie blurted indignantly.

Byleth only blinked in response.

“It’s because of Jeralt, of course,” Leonie clarified. “With him gone, I’ve...I've sort of lost my motivation. My will to get stronger. ...Isn’t it the same with you?”

“No,” Byleth said flatly. He didn’t elaborate further.

“Oh. You mean you weren't affected by his death?” Leonie asked, wide-eyed.

“Whether I show it or not, Jeralt's death  _ has  _ affected me,” Byleth clarified. “I feel motivated to work hard. More than anything, I want to kill that woman.”

It was chilling how the professor could say such things without a hint of emotion in his voice. And yet...Leonie couldn't help but agree with his thinking. Feeling bad for herself wasn't going to accomplish anything. If she really wanted to honor Jeralt, she needed to get out there and do something.

“I know how you feel,” Leonie said sympathetically. “Ever since that day, I haven’t stopped thinking about my revenge.”

Byleth nodded.

“...But if that’s my goal, I can’t afford to stand around sulking,” Leonie continued. “That isn’t what the captain would have wanted.”

Byleth nodded again. There wasn't much to say. He had done what he came here for. And Leonie understood this as well. She couldn't afford to be missing class during a time like this. Jeralt's death wasn't some excuse to stop working, it was a reason to work harder. So nobody else had to suffer at the hands of Tomas, Monica, and their cronies.

"I'll see you at the next lecture then?" Byleth asked.

"You will." Leonie promised. "And hey, thanks for talking to me, Professor. I think I’m going to go back to the monastery and clear my head a bit before getting some training in. See you later, OK?”

Byleth nodded and Leonie headed off, glad to have left on good terms for a change. And it was nice to know that the professor did care about Jeralt...even if he wasn’t conventional about showing it. 

Thinking on it, it was obvious that he had come to motivate her out of her slump. After all, it simply wouldn't do for Captain Jeralt's apprentice to slack off while everyone else was prepared to avenge him. However, on her way back, Leonie realized there was something she had forgotten to ask him.

...If the professor was using Jeralt’s death to motivate him, why  _ had  _ he been skipping out on training?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, I'm one of the few people that didn't hate Leonie's character in her Byleth supports. I thought it was interesting to see her more insecure side for once. ...What I did hate is how the supports are written as if these are the only times that Byleth and Leonie interact with each other.


	11. A Form of Grief Part 2 (White Clouds: 1/16)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Jeralt's death still on Byleth's mind, Raphael attempts to help the professor open up, while Claude works to uncover the mysteries Jeralt left behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay. Had issues fixing this up and had to split it into a three parter. I wanted to release Part 2 and 3 together.

****

**White Clouds**

**Where the Goddess Dwells**

**Day 16 of the Guardian Moon**

Byleth sighed, picking at his food quietly as he sat alone in the dining hall. With the death of Jeralt still fresh on his mind, he hadn't invited any of the students to dine with him in some time and now ate his meals at the very end table, furthest away from the serving area, where he was least likely to be bothered. So far, the others had left him in peace. Nobody offered to dine with him...until now that is.

“Mind if I sit here?” Raphael asked with his usual cheery smile.

Byleth blinked, looking up from his plate, and shook his head.

“Thanks. It’s been too long since we shared a meal together, Professor,” Raphael said, sitting across from him.

Byleth silently nodded, glancing down to his rather meager meal.

“You’re not eating as much as usual,” Raphael commented.

“Lost my appetite,” Byleth responded.

Byleth's tone was one of indifference, but Raphael seemed to see through it.

“I know how that feels...” Raphael frowned and nodded softly.

Byleth paused in thought. Thinking back, Raphael  _ had  _ lost his parents, hadn’t he? If anyone knew what he was feeling, it would be him. Byleth hadn't considered it before, but Raphael could probably see right through him, couldn't he?

“Still, it’s important to get in a good meal every now and then, no matter how hard it is,” Raphael continued. “The knights can come back any time, and when they do, you’ll want to be at full strength, Professor.”

Byleth frowned. He knew Raphael was trying to help, but he really didn’t want to talk about this.

“Maybe later,” Byleth said, picking up his plate. “Thanks for joining me, but I think I’m finished.”

“Ah, wait, Professor!” Raphael called, holding up a hand.

“Yes?” Byleth responded, glancing over his shoulder.

“I was, uh, wondering if maybe you could help me out with our last assignment?” Raphael asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

Byleth nodded.

“Great! We can get started as soon as I’m done eating,” Raphael said cheerfully. “Mind waiting just a bit?”

Byleth couldn’t refuse. He sat back down and watched as Raphael resumed his meal. This took some time...in fact, Raphael was at an unusually slow pace—slower than Byleth had ever seen. It was annoying, but encouraging Raphael to eat at his normal reckless pace would have been rude, not to mention irresponsible...so Byleth bit his tongue and waited in silence.

He waited...and waited...and waited...until finally Raphael finished his meal. This took around 30 minutes.

“Ahh...now that was some good meat...” Raphael hummed cheerfully.

Byleth nodded and rose from his seat—

“In fact, I’m gonna go get me some seconds,” Raphael added, smiling as he went back in line.

Byleth froze, just barely containing his irritation.  _ Seconds? _ How long was Raphael going to keep him here?

Byleth waited for his return, and was beginning to suspect that Raphael was intentionally trying to prevent him from leaving for as long as possible. Raphael was probably hoping that if he stalled long enough, he could coax his professor into speaking to him. Byleth sighed. Raphael always was much more clever than people gave him credit for.

“I’m back!” Raphael shouted several minutes later, causing the table to rattle as he plopped back into his chair.

Byleth’s eyes widened in faint horror as he realized that Raphael had returned with a massive amount of food, precariously towering on his plate.

“Aahh, now that's more like it,” Raphael said in a satisfied tone, beaming down to his professor. “You sure don’t want any, Professor? I have plenty to share.”

Byleth shook his head, once again just barely containing his annoyance.

“Heh, more for me then!” Raphael cheered, digging into his heaping plate.

Byleth frowned. His time was being wasted and he hated being inefficient. He was sure Raphael was waiting for him to open up, but Byleth refused to cave.

More time passed and Raphael continued to eat at an annoying slow pace. It was becoming more and more clear that he knew what he was doing and that Byleth was at his mercy. Byleth couldn't turn down a student in need, but he was getting impatient—meanwhile Raphael was happy to sit here all day and stuff his face. Despite losing his parents, he was always so cheerful...

“...How did you move past your parent’s deaths?” Byleth asked abruptly, failing to consider how rude it was to ask such a thing without preamble.

Raphael paused between bites, giving Byleth a somewhat befuddled look for a moment, before simply nodding and finishing his bite of food. The question didn’t seem to surprise him that much.

“To be real honest with you, Professor...I, uh, never did,” Raphael admitted.

Byleth blinked. Not the answer he expected.

“That surprises me,” Byleth said, though his face didn't show it. “You’re always smiling, Raphael.”

“When my parents died, I  _ had  _ to smile. Let my little sis know that everything was going to be OK, that her big bro was gonna look out for her,” Raphael explained.

“I see...so you put on a brave face for her sake, ” Byleth muttered.

Commanders, professors, older brothers, it seemed everyone felt a need to hide their emotions for the sake of those they led.

“Yeah, it was tough I gotta admit,” Raphael sighed. “But just because I was sad over my parents didn’t mean I couldn’t be happy too, you know?”

Byleth frowned in confusion but didn’t respond.

“Whenever things got too difficult, I always had Grandpa and my little sis to cheer me up.” Raphael smiled. “And now that I’m at the academy I have all you guys to make me smile too! ...And you have us, Professor. That’s what our parents would have wanted, right?”

Byleth’s eyes widened ever so slightly and he went very still upon hearing this. As if what Raphael had said really struck a chord with him.

“Hey, Professor are you—?” Raphael started.

“...You’re right,” Byleth stated suddenly as it dawned on him.

That  _ was  _ what Jeralt would have wanted, wasn’t it? How often had Jeralt asked that Byleth lighten up? That he smile for once? All his life. How many times had Jeralt seen him smile? Byleth could probably count the occasions on one hand, and each time he had done so, it had been at the academy.

Byleth had spent quite a bit of time reading Jeralt’s diary. So many entries were dedicated to his mother and how she had the most beautiful smile in all of Fodlan. The smile that Jeralt fell in love with. But his mother died, and what had Jeralt received in compensation? A child that wouldn’t smile for his own father. Byleth felt...disgusted with himself.

“Hey, Professor, are you alright?” Raphael asked with concern.

It took a moment for Byleth to collect his thoughts and respond.

“...Have you ever worried about disappointing your parents?”

“I worry about it all the time.” Raphael frowned, still gazing at his plate but not touching his food. “My parents were merchants and the business had been in our family even before Grandpa was born. But I wasn’t any smart growing up. No good with numbers. My little sis was supposed to inherit the business, but they died before she was old enough.”

“You’re becoming a knight to take care of her,” Byleth pointed out.

“Yeah, but I always think that maybe if I were smarter, I could have run the business and taken care of my sis...instead of selling it all.”

“I’m sorry,” Byleth said. 

Despite his lack of expression, he did mean it.

“Hey, don’t be sorry. It’s not your fault,” Raphael reassured him. “Anyway, you don’t need to worry about that sort of thing. You’re as smart as they come, Professor. I’m sure your Dad is real proud of how well you’ve done.”

Raphael gave him an encouraging smile. Byleth tried to return it but wasn’t sure if he had been successful in his attempt.

“But right now, you gotta make sure to take care of yourself. It’s what he would have wanted,” Raphael said seriously. “And remember, you can always count on us when you’re feeling down.”

“I appreciate that,” Byleth said quietly, glancing down to Raphael’s plate; he had stopped eating. “...Are you ready to work on your assignment?”

“Oh, ah...heh, I might have fibbed a little about that,” Raphael said sheepishly, glancing at his food. “I figured it was the only way I’d be able to talk to you.”

“I suspected as much,” Byleth sighed. “...But thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” Raphael said with his cheerful smile. “I’ll see you later, Professor.”

Byleth nodded before standing up from the table and taking his leave. As he headed outside, his thoughts wandered back to what Raphael had said. What Jeralt would have wanted. It was what Byleth wanted too. 

...But it was too late. Even if he could bring himself to smile, Jeralt wouldn’t see it.His father was gone. Why...why was it such a struggle for Byleth to smile?

Ever since he had read Jeralt’s diary, Byleth felt a great sense of unease about himself. Who was he really? Why did he struggle to show his emotions? Why didn’t his heart beat? He had been aware of his missing heartbeat long before reading Jeralt’s diary. That wasn’t the sort of thing you could go your whole life without noticing. But whenever he brought it up, Jeralt always insisted that it was some rare condition that Byleth had been born with. He always told Byleth not to worry about it.

But Jeralt  _ had  _ been worried about it. Byleth read those passages time and time again, thinking that he might have missed something. But the more he read it, the more it seemed that Jeralt had been...unnerved by his own child. 'Unnatural' he had described him. Was Byleth even truly human? Or...was he some sort of demon without a heart?

_ “Enough of that.”  _

Byleth stopped in his tracks at the sound of Sothis’ chiding voice scolding him from the back of his mind.

_ “I can say with utmost certainty that you ARE human,”  _ Sothis said firmly.  _ “It is through your humanity that you have bonded with your students. It is why you feel sorrow at your father’s passing.” _

Byleth frowned.

_ “I know. You wish things between you and your father had worked differently,”  _ Sothis consoled him gently.  _ “But despite the difficulties between you, he loved you with all his heart. You know this. I know you do.” _

Byleth nodded.

_ “And please know that, along with your students, I shall always be here for you,”  _ Sothis said comfortingly.  _ “But...enough of that, you have a lecture to prepare for. Off you go.” _

“...Thank you,” Byleth said quietly, heading to the classroom, still lost in thought.

What did it mean to be human? Was it your heartbeat? The ability to express oneself? Or perhaps it was the realization that you weren’t alone? That you were simply one human among many, that others hurt as you did and shared your pain.

Raphael had been able to sympathize with Byleth’s situation, and Byleth too sympathized with Raphael. How odd, finding comfort in someone’s tragedy, especially when that someone was his student. 

And yet, this wasn’t the first time Byleth had felt this way, was it? He recalled now...it had been the same with Lysithea too. She shared the secret of her two Crests so that he would feel better about his own...so that he might find comfort in the pain they shared.

Whenever Byleth felt sorrow, it was always his students who brought him happiness. So why, then, had he chosen to distance himself?

* * *

Sometime later, Byleth was in the Golden Deer classroom, reviewing battle tactics near the fireplace, when suddenly he heard someone approaching him.

“Hey, Teach, mind if we chat for a sec?” Claude asked.

“What is it?” Byleth responded, looking up from his book.

“Uh, is it OK if we take this outside?” Claude requested, glancing around the classroom.

Lorenz too was reading a book at one of the desks, while Marianne did her homework nearby, and Lysithea was closely examining a tactical game board, deep in thought. Claude didn’t want anyone to hear about Jeralt’s diary...especially Lysithea.

Byleth nodded.

“Thanks, Teach.” Claude smiled, motioning Byleth to follow him outside.

“Have you finished with Jeralt’s diary?” Byleth asked once they were out of earshot.

“Ah, not quite, no.” Claude confessed. “Eager to have it back, I’m guessing?”

Byleth nodded again.

“I understand,” Claude said sympathetically. “It probably feels like an insult to his memory to let someone else read it, I don’t blame you for your reservations.”

“That’s not it,” Byleth assured him, shaking his head.

Having grown up with Jeralt's enigmatic nature, Byleth had an abnormal view of privacy, viewing it as something distasteful. Secrets were a sign of dishonesty and what few secrets Byleth kept were not his own. The existence of Sothis, Edelgard and Lysithea's Crests, as well as a few other embarrassing secrets the two had confided in him.

When Claude asked for Jeralt's diary, Byleth hadn't hesitated. Rather than viewing it as an insult or invasion of privacy, he simply saw it as an act of sincerity.

“Oh? What is it then?” Claude asked, his tone edged with his usual curiously.

“I wanted to read it again.” 

“Ah, right, you  _ were  _ in the middle of reading it when I found you.” Claude recollected thoughtfully. “Now that I think about it, you were holed up there for a week. Were you reading Jeralt’s diary that entire time?”

Byleth nodded, smiling for the first time in weeks.

“Well would you look at that!” Claude laughed. “It’s been awhile since I’ve seen you smile like that, Teach. But back to why I called you here...there’s a baby mentioned in the diary. One without a heartbeat. That baby is you, isn’t it?”

Byleth, again, only responded with a nod. It was enough of an answer for Claude.

“I thought so,” Claude hummed in thought, placing a hand to his chin. “And your heart...is it...?”

“Still no heartbeat.”

“I see...” Claude frowned. “Hey Teach, you remember last month, don’t you? When we celebrated your birthday?”

“Day 1 of the Ethereal Moon,” Byleth recalled.

“Right...” Claude nodded. “Well, I did some research. It turns out that was Alois’ birthday too. Did you know that?”

Byleth nodded.

“I thought so. You’re always on top of that sort of thing.” Claude smirked. “And do you remember back then, when Raphael asked how old you were? You couldn’t give him an answer. So, we all took turns guessing your age.”

“I remember.” Byleth said, frowning slightly. “Flayn thought I was younger than the rest of you, turning sixteen.”

“Her guess was the youngest. Heh, Lysithea was delighted at the idea,” Claude laughed.

Byleth didn’t quite understand the joke and simply nodded again in acknowledgement.

“And Hilda made the oldest guess. She thought you were twenty,” Claude added with another little chuckle. “But Leonie claimed that couldn’t be true. Because you were born 'several years' after Jeralt left the monastery.”

“He always told me that.” Byleth frowned. “But when I asked him why my mother was buried here, he couldn’t give me an answer.”

“Well, according to his diary, you must have been born sometime during the Horsebow Moon, in the year 1159. That would make you...twenty-one years old, Teach.” Claude said.

In his grief, Byleth hadn’t noticed this detail. But now that it was addressed, Byleth realized that Claude was right. It was...weird suddenly finding out that he was four or five years older than he had been led to believe all his life.

“It sounds like he lied about your age and used his old squire’s birthday as your cover...” Claude theorized. “Any idea why he’d hide this from you?”

Byleth rolled his eyes and pondered the situation. Typical that Jeralt couldn't think of a more creative fake birthday. But why  _ would  _ his father go so far to lie about his age? Suddenly, a memory stirred, and Byleth nodded.

“I think so.” 

“Oh? What’s on your mind, Teach?”

Byleth paused, considering him for a moment, before responding.

“I think...he was hiding me from Rhea.”

“Oh? And what makes you so sure?” Claude asked, eyes raised.

"When we first arrived at the monastery, Rhea quickly showed interest in me." Byleth frowned. "Jeralt stressed that I was born ‘many years after he left this place’. He claimed my mother died of illness.” 

Suddenly realization set in. 

“...I think he was trying to convince her that I was his second child.”

“Makes sense,” Claude agreed with a soft nod of his own. “From the sound of it, Jeralt believed that Rhea did something when you were a baby...and had big plans for you.”

Claude placed a hand to his chin in thought, mulling over the situation for a moment before continuing.

“Say Teach. You mentioned that Jeralt kept you from interacting with others before joining the monastery, right?”

“I was distant from people then..." Byleth confirmed "Even from most of the other mercenaries.” 

“Do you think it’s possible that Jeralt did all this to keep you a secret from Rhea?”

“Thinking on it now...I suppose that’s probably true.”

The more they talked it over, the more it all started making sense. All his life, Byleth had been kept in the dark. So many secrets, so many lies...he used to resent Jeralt for it, but now he understood. Jeralt had done all of this, had kept him sheltered for all this time, to protect him...from Rhea.

“He even lied about your age, on the unlikely chance you two met Rhea again,” Claude murmured, his face growing dark and his voice becoming unusually serious. “That’s a lot of effort just to hide from someone, Teach...”

Byleth couldn’t help but agree. Jeralt had every reason to be suspicious of Rhea, but what had terrified him so much that he would fake their deaths and hide Byleth all his life? Jeralt, for all his faults, was the bravest, most unflinching man Byleth had ever known. So what did Jeralt know about Rhea that caused him to fear her so? For once in his life, Byleth truly felt...unnerved.

“How much longer will you need with the diary?” Byleth asked, his tone remaining flat.

“I’ll have it returned to his office by the end of this month, I promise,” Claude assured him. “I haven’t had a chance to fully comb over it but...hm, now that I think about it, maybe you could help?”

Byleth tilted his head questioningly.

“C’mon, you must have found some interesting passages during your time with it, right?” Claude pressed, offering the diary. "You could help point me in the right direction."

Byleth frowned, mulling it over for a few seconds, before nodding and taking the diary. He took a few moments to flip through the pages before finding the passage he was after. When he finished, he returned the diary to Claude and pointed.

“ _ 'Day 18 of the Blue Sea Moon, Year 1156...’ _ ” Claude read aloud. “ _ ’Mission has taken longer than expected. As I lay awake under the night sky, I can’t help but think of Sitri. Her lovely verdant hair, her smile that rivals the beauty of the Godd—’ _ Uh, Teach, what is this?"

“He was thinking about my mother,” Byleth explained, offering a truly sincere and gentle smile.

“I see that,” Claude chuckled. "But when I said 'interesting' I meant—wait...Teach, is this really what you were reading that whole time?”

Byleth nodded and Claude gave him an incredulous look. A little endeared, but still incredulous.

“Heh, I must admit, I never took you for the sentimental romantic type,” Claude laughed.

In truth, Byleth wasn’t. At least not until now. Throughout his life, he had always seen romance and marriage as a tool for the rich and politically elite. A method by which nobles consolidated their power with other nobles. A means for merchant families to further amass wealth and expand their business. 

Romance in itself held no intrinsic value...that’s what Byleth always thought. Upon reading Jeralt’s diary, however, he was starting to gain a new appreciation for the idea of romance...and a new appreciation for Jeralt too.

“Well, as much as I appreciate you showing me that, it...wasn’t exactly what I had in mind,” Claude sighed, but remained smiling.

He had never seen this side of Teach before...it was nice to know that there was a soft-hearted person underneath that cold, stern exterior.

“I guess I’ll have to go over this diary on my own if I want to uncover the rest of its secrets,” Claude decided, sliding the book back into his coat to conceal it.

Byleth frowned, but nodded.

“I’ll let you know if I find anything interesting. See you later, Teach!” Claude said, waving at him as he headed off towards the student's quarters.

With much to consider, Byleth turned back and headed inside the classroom. As he made his way back to his seat, Byleth took a glance at Lorenz. ...Lorenz was roughly half a foot taller than his professor, but he wasn't the only one. In fact, most of the male students at the academy were roughly the same size as Byleth, if not taller.

Growing up, Byleth had always questioned the assigned age Jeralt had given him. It simply never felt right. Like there were years missing. But once he joined the academy and compared himself to other boys aged 16-18, Byleth had decided to accept the fake age Jeralt had assigned him was likely to be true. Clearly, however, that wasn't actually the case.

It was with a twinge of annoyance that Byleth finally realized that he wasn’t young...

...He was  _ short. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always found it a bit amusing that, based on the dialogue, nobody had seen Byleth for that entire week...so he must have been in the office the whole time, reading Jeralt's love notes like a total softy. XD


	12. A Form of Grief Part 3 (White Clouds: 1/21)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nearly month has gone by since Jeralt's passing and Byleth continues to struggle to move past his death. Feeling concerned, Lysithea tries to use her own experience with trauma to help her professor recover.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew. There it is. It may take some time before I update after this because I want to get some post-skip ideas before I continue. While I don't have to write in order, that does make things easier, if I ever want to make references. Assuming I don't get any addition requests for monastery phase chapters, this will be the last chapter that takes place during White Clouds.

**White Clouds**

**Where the Goddess Dwells**

**Day 21 of the Guardian Moon**

Lysithea remembered that day well. She didn’t know how old she had been, for there was no sense of time when she had been kept prisoner by the imperial mages. But she was still a child back then, that was certain. 

She remembered the mages cheering when she had awoken with her white hair. Lysithea had been deemed a 'success' and they were able to confirm two Crests resided within her. Good news, apparently.

For a time, they treated her differently. Like she was special. The head of the mages immediately demanded Lysithea be bathed, that the lice be removed from her hair, and that she be given double food rations. They couldn’t afford to lose their precious test subject to disease or starvation.

The treatment was ‘better’ in a sense. The food was terrible, she still ate from a trough, she was still spoken to like an animal, and Lysithea remembered her poor hygiene at the time. She wore thin rags, her hair was unkempt and knee-length, and her fingernails were overgrown and filthy. But she was at least bathed, given her own private cell, and brought more food portions. The mages didn’t hit her so much anymore either.

Unfortunately, Lysithea was given less privacy than ever. She was watched around the clock, forced to do humiliating and exhausting exercises, and the mages always wanted to draw more blood. She was supposed to be grateful of course, for she was given ‘special treatment’.

Then, for a short time, the mages stopped paying so much attention to her. Lysithea remembered them arguing about something. She was too young to remember what it is, but looking back now, it likely had something to do with her shortened lifespan. 

Yes, that had to be it. She didn't know what it meant at the time, but one of the mages had called her 'a failure'. There was no point in keeping her. Lysithea already bore the two Crests and couldn’t be used for future experiments.

One of the mages proposed that they simply kill her and move on to the next subject. However, another mage suggested Lysithea be released instead. Her parents could care for her in their stead, on the off chance they needed to study her again or draw blood. In the end, that was what they decided.

It was strange meeting her parents. At the time, they were complete strangers to Lysithea. She had seen them observing the mage’s experiments, but she didn’t know them personally. After all, she had been confined to a cage all her life, ever since she was two years old. This man and woman who called themselves “Father” and “Mother” would be her caretakers now.

The first thing Lysithea remembered was her parents showering her with affection, although she didn’t recognize it as affection at the time. They held her and kissed her and told her everything was going to be OK. Lysithea didn’t understand what was going on and she didn’t ask questions. You weren’t supposed to ask questions unless you wanted a beating.

The next thing she remembered was her mother giving her a warm bath. She then cut Lysithea’s hair, trimmed her nails, brushed her teeth, gave her new clothes, and so on. Lysithea now understood that her mother had only wanted to groom her, but at the time, she thought she was just undergoing another one of the mage’s exercises.

Later that night, Lysithea's parents had offered her to sleep with them in the same bed. As a family. But she didn’t want to. Lysithea was small, timid, nervous, and untrusting of others. It must have been difficult for her parents to be reunited with their daughter, only to discover she was terrified of them...and yet they had been very understanding. 

Count Ordelia had taken Lysithea to her room, given her a warm bed to sleep in, and told her that he loved her. Though that 'I love you' didn't mean anything to her at the time.

It took time for Lysithea’s parents to earn her trust. But she remembered it with distinct clarity. Her father had come home with some candy. She didn’t remember what candy it had been exactly, but it was something with chocolate. Count Ordelia had offered the candy to her...

At first, Lysithea didn’t want to eat it. She thought the candy was another one of the mage’s drugs. The ones that tasted nasty and made her hurt. So instead her father offered to share it with her and ate half of the candy himself. Lysithea was scared but, with some reluctance, had eaten her half as well.

It was...delicious. Indescribably yummy. So tasty that her eyes had welled with tears—OK maybe she was romanticizing the memory a bit. At any rate, it was much better than the horribly disgusting food she had eaten with the mages. And for once...Lysithea felt happy.

She remembered the warm smile her father had given her upon seeing his daughter’s delighted expression. He asked her if she wanted more sweets. Lysithea, nervously, had said yes. And so her parents had given her all the candy she could eat that day and, as silly as it was, this was when Lysithea truly began to realize that the couple she was living with really did care about her. That these were good people who sincerely wanted to look out for her.

Lysithea’s parents had been the first people in her life to ever show her kindness. And she loved them for this. Deeply. She remembered trying her hardest to learn things on her own, such as cooking, so she could help around the house. 

And Lysithea had put all of her effort into mastering noble etiquette so she wouldn’t embarrass her father by acting uncivilized around the nobility. She never once took her parents kindness for granted and, more than anything, she wanted to make up for it.

Even before learning of her unfortunate condition, Lysithea worked hard to assist her parents with their noble obligations. Usually in small ways, such as preparing tea for her father while he worked or reading documents to her mother when she was too tired to see clearly. The sort of simple things a small girl was capable of doing. It wasn’t much, but she liked to help. She grew close to her parents...and for a time, she was content.

Unfortunately, this happiness would not last and would sometimes be punctured by the occasional visit from the imperial mages, either to gather blood or to perform tests on Lysithea. One day, however, the mages came for a final visit...to inform Count Ordelia that they were leaving. Their tests had been complete failures. All the children, besides Lysithea, had died.

Before the imperial mage left, however, Count Ordelia had asked about Lysithea’s condition. Would there be any side effects to having two Crests? Lysithea remembered vividly how the Head Mage had turned and smiled at her father, glee all over his pale, old, twisted face.

_ “Just one. Your daughter will always be a child.” _

He had said this as a joke. As if to imply that having two Crests would grant Lysithea eternal youth.

_ “...Because she will die an early death.” _

...The mage had just been trying to scare her. That’s what her mother assured her. She was going to be OK. Everything would be fine. But even back then, Lysithea could sense the lack of confidence in her mother’s voice whenever she said this.

Count Ordelia wanted to call a doctor to have his daughter properly examined, but Lysithea’s mother had protested, stating that if word got out about her two Crests, then Crest Scholars all across Fodlan would want to study and conduct experiments on her. 

Lysithea initially pleaded against this. She didn't want to see a doctor. She didn’t want to be experimented on again. But her father assured her that nothing would happen. Everything was going to be OK. He promised her this and Lysithea, reluctantly, agreed to see a doctor.

A few days later, the doctor came. He had been paid handsomely to perform the examination and to keep his silence regarding the two Crests. Lysithea hated being undressed and studied, forced to draw blood again, but once more, her parents had assured her it would all be OK. She trusted them, so she complied. But they were wrong. It was  _ not  _ all OK.

When the doctor finished his examination, Count Ordelia had complimented Lysithea for being cooperative and informed her that there was a bag of sweets waiting for her in the kitchen as a treat. Lysithea was too smart to fall for this though. Her father wanted her out of the room, so her parents could privately discuss the bad news with the doctor.

Lysithea had left the room, but she hadn’t gone to the kitchen. She stayed and listened at the door. ...What the mage told them was true. According to the doctor, Lysithea had ten years to live, fifteen at the very most. She would die in her young adulthood...if she was lucky.

Of course, her parents had been devastated by the news. Lysithea, however, had a complete meltdown upon hearing of her condition. She was quickly discovered, and her parents tried to console her, but nothing would work. She pleaded the doctor for medicine, but this was no sickness. The unfortunate truth was that her body couldn’t handle the stress of bearing two Crests.

Lysithea didn’t  _ want  _ her Crests. She wanted to go back to being Crestless. She wanted them removed. Unfortunately, the doctor couldn’t remove them. Removing Crests was impossible. But that didn’t stop Lysithea. In her naive state of childish innocence, she turned to her parents, truly believing that they could fix  _ any  _ problem.

She begged, pleaded, sobbed, and wept, bawling helplessly for her parents to do something to save her. But her parents were just as helpless as she was. Upon seeing their daughter in this state, her father had cried, her mother had cried, and Lysithea continued crying. There was nothing they could do.

Why was Lysithea thinking about this? 

Because of what happened next. 

When Lysithea finally accepted her fate, she had realized that there was no point in crying anymore. No point in showing grief towards her condition. All it did was make her parents feel worse. It made them feel helpless.

Her parents weren’t to blame for the tragedy she went through. Even at a very young age, Lysithea understood that they had been victims, same as her. And, despite being a child, she was able to empathize with her parents...how hard it must have been to be separated from their only daughter and watch her suffer. 

She knew they were blaming themselves for what happened, that they considered themselves failures for not being able to help her now. And their daughter’s tears only reminded them of their ‘failure’. So, for the sake of her parents, Lysithea buried her emotions and carried her burdens...alone.

That was  _ exactly  _ what the professor was doing now. It’s what he had been doing ever since Jeralt’s death. Concealing his emotions, distancing himself, acting aloof. If the professor were to show his grief, it would lower morale. And it would remind the students of—what many considered to be—their failed mission. 

And so, it was clear that the professor, much like she had done, was resolved in carrying his burdens alone. For the sake of his students.

The difference between Lysithea and the professor, however, was that very few people seemed to realize that the professor was acting strangely. The only ones who knew better were the students in his own house, who were steadily getting better at reading their professor. And Byleth too had gotten better at expressing his emotions.

Lysithea fondly remembered the way her professor’s face would light up when she excelled in her schoolwork. She missed the small smiles he would give her whenever she brought him a new dessert to try. And, more than anything, Lysithea missed hearing the excitement in her professor's voice whenever he encouraged her during training.

Yes, she missed training with him most of all. The moments she and the professor would spend together, occasionally with Felix, working side by side and growing stronger. It was all for the sake of her growth, of course, but in a way, training had become a recreational activity for Lysithea. Time spent with a partner who acknowledged her hard work, respected her abilities and never held back.

When Byleth and Lysithea seriously trained, they used their Relics and fought as if in a real battle. This was dangerous—reckless even—and certainly irresponsible for a professor and yet...she trusted him. Completely. Maybe even...intimately. 

There were occasional injuries, of course. The two would have to endure cuts, burns, and bruises, and would need to heal each other with white magic, but the fights never escalated  _ too  _ far. The professor always seemed to know the  _ exact  _ moment when they needed to stop before it reached that point. Almost as though he could see the future.

Training still hadn’t resumed between the two of them, although Lysithea was now visiting the training grounds every single day at 5:00 PM, hoping that would be the day the professor resumed his training regimen. Until then, Lysithea was left training on her own. Admittedly a bad idea, considering it was the professor who once told her that training alone only reinforced bad habits.

For the last few days, Lysithea had been fighting with herself on whether she would confront the professor on his current state. Even now, as she made her way to the Golden Deer classroom, she was still wondering whether she would go through with it.

On the one hand, Lysithea felt she was greatly overstepping her role as a student, trying to offer emotional guidance to the professor. She of all people, who could barely control her own emotions and often got in trouble for her outbursts. 

But then...Lysithea couldn’t allow her professor to suffer in silence the same way as she had either. If she did, Lysithea would be failing in her duty as Byleth’s friend. ...Also, she missed him. Greatly.

Still, there was a good chance the professor would just push her away and bury his emotions further. That was what Lysithea did when her parents tried to console her. Then again, Byleth wasn’t a ten-year-old girl either. There was a chance she could reach him. 

That’s what Lysithea hoped anyway. But as she approached the Golden Deer classroom, she heard a voice. 

Leonie’s.

“—it was all so new and exciting! So after he left, I kept at it. Kept training. Just like he taught me.”

“I'm glad you got to see him again.” Came a response.

It was the professor. He was talking to Leonie...about Jeralt no doubt.

“Me too. I always planned to meet him again, once I became a top-tier mercenary. But I'm just glad I got to see him. To thank him properly and all.” Leonie said softly. “I've spent my whole life working to become a great mercenary like your father...”

It was clear that this was a private moment between the professor and Leonie. One that Lysithea had no business listening in on. She would just have to come back later...or maybe that wasn’t necessary? 

Perhaps it would be Leonie who finally snapped the professor out of his depressive state? It made sense. After all, she had been closest to Jeralt out of all the students. Leonie probably understood the professor's feelings better than anyone...

“There were so many times when I wanted to ask his advice, but I couldn't.” Leonie’s voice could still be distantly heard as Lysithea withdrew back to her quarters. “I just had to make do. That's how I've made it this far. Just hard work, all on my own.”

Just as Lysithea was about to turn the corner, however, she came to a halt upon hearing what came next.

“But then you come along...” Leonie’s said with a tone of...resentment?

Lysithea knew she shouldn’t be listening in. This was a personal matter between Leonie and the professor but...

“And it's like you don't appreciate Captain Jeralt at all, or how lucky you were to have him around your whole life!” Leonie snapped.

Lysithea stood there, eyes wide and a hand tracing her lips, staring at the classroom door in horror as Leonie continued to chastise their professor.

“Ugh! It still really bothers me! You might be his kid, but I'm still his best apprentice! Got it?!” Leonie stormed out, slamming the door behind her, making her way to the training grounds in a huff.

_ ‘What just happened...?’  _ Lysithea thought to herself. 

She couldn’t believe what she just heard.  _ Leonie  _ of all people, ranting at their professor, telling him that he didn’t appreciate his father enough...all while the professor was still grieving over his death. Lysithea just didn’t get it. Leonie was always so kind, so mature...in fact, out of all her fellow students, Lysithea held the utmost respect for Leonie. Why would she do this?

Lysithea gulped and made her way back to the classroom, staring at the door. She wasn’t supposed to have heard that. She could still walk away. That might even be the more tactful thing to do but...it was hard to imagine the professor not being affected by what had just happened. 

Lysithea shook her head. Whether she ought to have listened in or not, the fact was that she did...so she couldn’t ignore it.

“Professor?” Lysithea called in a timid voice as she opened the door.

“I’m here.” Byleth replied, his voice perfectly even and not displaying a hint of emotion as he hunched over his desk, scribbling down something or another on a sheet of parchment with his quill.

Lysithea stood quietly at the doorway, staring at him for some time. She didn’t know how to proceed from here. The professor didn’t press her either. He simply continued writing at a fast pace, completely ignoring her presence.

“I...came to check on you.” Lysithea finally said.

“You were eavesdropping.” Byleth corrected her, still not looking up.

Blunt. The professor was the only person Lysithea knew who was even more straight to the point than she was.

“I’m sorry...” Lysithea mumbled.

“I’m not angry.” Byleth assured her.

He didn’t sound angry, but he didn’t exactly sound friendly either. Then again, what could be expected after  _ that? _

Lysithea stared at him awkwardly for some time. After a few moments, she turned and closed the door behind her before turning back. The professor continued his work in silence, not once looking towards her. She felt like she was wasting his time, just standing there and not offering any words of condolence or help. Only one thing came to mind...it seemed so pointless to ask, but she couldn’t think of anything else.

“Are you OK, Professor?” Lysithea asked quietly.

“I’m fine.” Byleth said shortly, inking his quill again before moving on to the next sentence.

Lysithea frowned. That was a lie.

“No, you’re not.” Lysithea said firmly but keeping her voice leveled. She didn’t want to snap at him like Leonie did.

This time, Byleth looked up at her.

“You wanted to know if Leonie upset me. She didn’t.” Byleth clarified before glancing back down.

Lysithea frowned. She thought she knew the professor pretty well, and yet Lysithea had to admit that even she had difficulty reading him when he bottled his emotions like this.

“Are...you sure, Professor?”

“Nothing she said wasn’t true.” Byleth responded, his writing suddenly slowing to a stop. “I...didn’t appreciate him. Or respect him.”

This was something that had been weighing on Byleth’s mind for some time. He had always seen Jeralt less as a father and more as an oafish partner. He lied, kept secrets, acted the fool at times, and was always drinking. 

Jeralt was drunk half the time, sometimes on the job, and it was because of his drinking habits that Byleth was so poor. Despite being a skilled and seasoned mercenary, he didn’t have a single gold coin to his name, upon entering the academy. All their earnings had gone into Jeralt’s bar tab.

And while Byleth would never call Jeralt weak...the truth was, he had surpassed Jeralt as a fighter long ago. He had defeated his father in their sparring matches several times, he was the only one who trained, and it was Byleth, not Jeralt, who killed the most during their mercenary missions. That was why the others feared him. And this was why Byleth never understood the praise Jeralt received for his power.

...What a stupid notion. Judging a man’s worth by how many people he killed. Viewing himself as the better between them because he was a bit stronger. Ridiculous. Any man who loved as much as Jeralt had loved Byleth’s mother was worthy of admiration. A father who was willing to go so far to protect their only child was deserving of his son’s respect at the very least. No, at this point, Byleth didn’t even view himself to be half the man Jeralt was.

“Even if you didn’t respect him, you did care for him, didn’t you?” Lysithea asked gently, pulling up a chair near her professor.

Byleth nodded.

Yes. No matter how much of a nuisance Jeralt had been at times, Byleth could never bring himself to resent his father. Byleth's life had been confusing and he had been lied to so many times, that he often questioned if Jeralt was even truly his father. 

But in spite of it all, he knew the old man cared for him. He knew it was Jeralt who was securing their mercenary contracts. And even if Byleth wished things had been different, Jeralt had been his constant companion. For all the hardships he faced, Jeralt was his father...the only father he was ever going to have. And now he was gone.

_ "You're just a pathetic old man." _

Monica’s taunting voice rang in Byleth’s ears...

_ "How dare you get in the way of my brilliant plan...you dog." _

...and he clenched his fists.

“Professor?”

Byleth glanced up at Lysithea, who was gazing at him with a tender expression.

“Sorry...” Byleth muttered. “I’m really not mad at Leonie but...”

“You’re still grieving,” Lysithea finished.

Byleth grimaced. He was doing a poor job of hiding it too, apparently.

“I was thinking of Monica,” Byleth sighed.

“You  _ will  _ have your revenge, Professor...” Lysithea promised him with a firm, determined nod. “You have our support.”

Byleth didn’t respond. He stared at his knees in silence. He couldn’t even bring himself to look at her right now. In fact...Lysithea was the last person he had wanted to see. Byleth knew where this conversation was going, and he had been dreading this inevitable confrontation with her...

The two remained in silence for some time. Lysithea wanted to find some way to comfort Byleth. Some way to pull him out of his miserable state. She thought back to herself, to her own experiences. She remembered blaming herself—similar to what the professor had just been doing just a moment ago.

Lysithea had blamed her parent's suffering on her own existence, often thinking that they would be better off if she had just died in that experiment. Died and left them without a child to burden their lives. 

Instead, their pain had to be prolonged as they watched their daughter live out a shortened life. But Lysithea vowed then and there that she would  _ not  _ be a burden. She would spend what little time she had left developing as quickly as possible so that she could be of real value to her parents.

This gave her life purpose—even if it was a shortened life’s purpose. It was through her purpose that she gained resolve and it was from this resolve that Lysithea found the strength to continue. Never faltering, never crying, but always trudging onwards, no matter how difficult things got for her.

That’s what the professor needed right now. Purpose. The flames of purpose would forge his resolve and allow him to move forward. It was too late to save Jeralt, but there were still ways the professor could find meaning. Through teaching his students and through avenging Jeralt and bringing justice to their foes.

“Um, Professor?” Lysithea murmured shyly

Byleth didn’t respond, but she knew he heard her.

“I was wondering...if it was possible that we could resume our training?” Lysithea asked, keeping her tone especially polite.

Byleth winced. Of course Lysithea wanted to resume their training. He had expected her to ask this for some time. More likely than not, she wanted to know why their training had ever stopped. 

Why wasn’t he doing his job? What had he abandoned his student? Why wasn’t he there for her and supporting her as a professor should? Lysithea had a right to know, but he didn’t have an answer for her.

“We’re dealing with a powerful foe and there’s much we don’t understand. We can't afford to be unprepared.” Lysithea gently reasoned with him.

She was right. He knew she was but...

“I think...it’s best we train on our own from now on.” Byleth sighed, shaking his head.

“...Why?” came Lysithea’s quiet response.

She sounded so dejected. Byleth only continued to stare at his knees. Again, he couldn’t bring himself to look at her. He knew what he would see. Lysithea’s hunched shoulders, her pouting lips, her slanted eyebrows, and those sad, pitiful puppy eyes. He couldn’t stand it when she made that expression.

“It’s complicated.” Byleth replied.

That wasn’t an acceptable answer and Byleth knew it. He didn’t blame Lysithea for indignantly huffing in response. She deserved a better response than this, and yet he didn’t have one. But... even if he wasn’t telling her the full truth, he wasn’t lying either. It  _ was  _ complicated.

Byleth had always been a skilled mercenary and an elite fighter, even if he didn’t personally see himself that way. But as powerful as Byleth was, he was still only human. He was still fallible. Everything changed when Sothis granted him access to the Divine Pulse. When he had obtained that power, Byleth truly did feel invincible. With the power to rewind time, it seemed as though he was untouchable by fate; immune to consequences.

It was for this very reason that Byleth allowed Lysithea to train so recklessly with him. It was why they could fight so intensely with the power of the Heroes Relics. If anything were to go wrong, Byleth had the power to turn back time and prevent these accidents from happening.

So far, nothing fatal had ever occured, but there were several incidents where one of them had gotten seriously hurt and Byleth had to rely on Sothis’ power to fix things.

But ever since Jeralt’s death...Byleth felt very vulnerable. When Monica had first stabbed Jeralt out of nowhere, Byleth had been shocked. Horrified, actually. And yet he felt so confident—so assured with the thought that he could save Jeralt. 

But no. The Divine Pulse had failed him. 

Was it a coincidence? Had the mage simply refused to appear the first time because Byleth hadn’t taken action? Or maybe it was possible that this pale mage knew of Sothis’ power and he had been lying in wait to prevent Byleth from using it to save his father?

One way or another, it was clear now that the Divine Pulse did  _ not  _ make Byleth invincible. It had its limits—for example, it couldn’t be used in quick succession. He was still susceptible to consequences even with Sothis' help. And with that in mind, Byleth no longer felt comfortable relying on its power during training.

For the last few weeks, Byleth had been plagued with nightmares. Many of them involved Lysithea. The two of them would train and eventually Byleth would take it too far, fatally wounding her with the Sword of the Creator. He would then try to reach out to Sothis, to use the Divine Pulse. Sometimes Sothis wouldn’t respond and other times, the pale mage would appear and stop him.

The end result was the same, with Byleth rushing to Lysithea and cradling her in his arms just as he had with Jeralt, tears pouring from his eyes as his dying student looked at him with hurt and betrayal...falling to his blade.

“Professor, I want to know the truth.” Lysithea said with a stern yet gentle tone. She was annoyed by his vague response, but at this point Byleth's mask was slipping and it was becoming clear to her that something was bothering him.

Unfortunately, Byleth couldn’t tell her the truth. And he found himself annoyed at Sothis because of this. No, not just Sothis. Jeralt, Claude, Edelgard, Rhea and even Lysithea. Why were the closest people in his life all so secretive? He was being forced to lie to his student for the sake of Sothis’ secret and he hated it.

“It’s better that you and the others didn’t come.” Byleth said in a monotone that didn’t match his inner fury. “You’re all still students. The knights and I will handle this.”

“You can’t be serious!” Lysithea objected. “All of us have spent the last few weeks preparing for this. You can’t exclude us!”

“Rhea would never allow me to bring students on such a mission. You know that. This...woman...killed my father, the former captain of the knights.”

“I don’t care!” Lysithea protested heatedly.

“You would go against Rhea?” Byleth asked, for once looking at her with raised eyebrows.

“You would too, if she forbade you from seeking vengeance.” Lysithea huffed, crossing her arms.

Byleth frowned. She wasn’t wrong. There  _ was  _ nothing Rhea or anyone else could do to stop him from seeking vengeance. But why was Lysithea...

“Why are you so determined to come?” Byleth asked.

“Because you’re my friend, Professor,” Lysithea sighed in equal parts care and frustration. “You’re the first real friend I’ve ever made. And I don’t want to lose you.”

Having been locked in a cage for most of her life, Lysithea had very few opportunities to socialize with others. And once she had chosen to dedicate her life to improving herself, Lysithea had decided she didn’t have time for friendship. ...And yet despite all of that, she had made friends with the Golden Deer, with her professor being her first true friend.

“...You consider us friends?” Byleth asked quietly after some pause.

“Of course.” Lysithea responded, sounding a bit hurt at his question...but then she noticed...a small smile emerging from the professor’s sullen expression.

“...I’m glad to hear it.” Byleth said gently, smiling directly at her now.

“Professor?” Lysithea stared at him curiously.

“Growing up, I never developed attachments or got too close to anyone.” Byleth confessed. “Even now, I don't know for sure what a 'friend' is. But...I am glad that we are friends, Lysithea.”

Lysithea frowned. Growing up not knowing what friendship is? ...What an awful thing for him to say.

“Friends are...” Lysithea paused, not sure if she was the best person to explain it. After all, she didn’t have any friends growing up either. “Professor, friends are people who care about one another. They share in their pain and hate to see each other get hurt. Which is why...I want to get revenge on Monica too! Because she took Jeralt away from you, because...she hurt you, Professor.”

Byleth didn’t respond. Instead he just stared at her very intently. It was hard to tell what he was thinking at the moment, but suddenly he lunged at her. It seemed as though he were about to attack—

...But no. Lysithea gasped as the professor wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a very tight hug.

“P-Professor...!” Lysithea couldn’t breathe.

Byleth eased his grip, but only slightly. He continued to hold her firmly. Lysithea was caught off guard to say the least. There had been rare moments when she had embraced him, but she had never been embraced  _ by  _ him before. It just wasn’t the sort of thing she ever imagined the professor doing.

Although they were alone, it suddenly occurred to her that someone might walk in the classroom door at any moment. And there were plenty of windows. If passerby were to look in and see them now, they might think—...actually no, Lysithea didn't care. If others saw them and wanted to spread rumors, then let them gossip.

Instead of breaking the hug, Lysithea returned it. She wrapped her arms around the professor and held him as tightly as she could—although given her lack of physical strength, this wasn’t much. Still, she was happy to be of some comfort to him...

“Thank you.”

These were the only words Byleth managed to get out. 

He now understood that there was no point in trying to keep his students out of this. Lysithea made it clear that she would not leave his side. She was going to aid him in his revenge regardless of what he or Rhea had to say about it. No doubt, the others felt the same. Even if Byleth could convince some of them to stay behind, he was sure Claude would coax them into coming, despite his objections

It was so strange but...he felt a sudden desire to protect them. His students. He had acted on this instinct, by pulling Lysithea into his embrace. She was very small and for some reason that only made him want to protect her more. They were his allies, his faithful companions, his friends. They were his students. And now more than ever, Byleth understood that they meant the world to him...that he wouldn’t allow any of them to die. 

No matter what.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> According to Lysithea's profile, she suffered from imperial intervention at the age of 2...yet she remembers her hair turning white and Edelgard didn't have her Crests added until she was 12. I always assumed this meant Lysithea spent most of her life trapped by TWSITD. Might be one of the reasons she doesn't act the same way other nobles do.
> 
> Anyway uhh...honestly, was this too cheesy? I had a bit of a back and forth with my beta reader about that. She insisted it wasn't but...mmm, not fully convinced to be honest. XD


	13. A Promise (White Clouds: 2/28)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lysithea receives an invitation for tea on her birthday, but Byleth is struggling with a sense of melancholy, even after avenging Jeralt's death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT (6/21/2020): I've reordered the chapters to fit their chronological order. And although this chapter is the 13th chronologically, it is the first one I've written. At the time of writing it, I didn't really have plans to make a whole fanfic. It was just a little oneshot for fun. As such, it may feel a bit redundant. I have, however, given it a brief review. This is my first fanfiction after all, and I didn't have much of a writing format back then.
> 
> I've touched up this chapter a bit, but have kept it faithful to my original writing since people seemed to like it for whatever reason. Enjoy!

**White Clouds**

**Throne of Knowledge**

**Day 28 of the Pegasus Moon**

"Happy birthday, Lysithea." Byleth said in his usual monotone voice.

Byleth attempted to smile, but his expression remained as neutral as ever. Ordinarily, he might have succeeded, having improved on his ability to emote on command, but today he found himself struggling.

“Thank you, Professor.” Lysithea said, returning his attempt with a genuine smile of her own. 

It was the 28th of the Pegasus Moon, one day before their 'mission' to the Holy Tomb. With all the events that had occurred recently, Lysithea hadn’t been sure if her professor would remember that today was her birthday. 

Lysithea admired his diligence. Not just on the battlefield, but in all things, such as remembering the birthdays of all his students, their favorite foods, and in this case, their favorite teas. Lysithea noticed the professor was even pouring heaps of sugar into the teapot to save her the trouble of adding it later. He must have a sharp memory.

However, this has little to do with Byleth's memory. In truth, he was a bit of a perfectionist and very meticulous by nature when it came to his schedule. After years of commanding mercenaries and students, Byleth was habitual in planning out everything. When it came to dining, he always consulted a cheat sheet he had set out for himself early in the year when Annette was asking students and faculty about their tastes. 

As for the tea, Byleth never did truly learn what his student's tastes were. It was simply dumb luck that Lysithea enjoyed the Sweet-Apple Blend, which Byleth had stockpiled due to its cheapness and how common it was to find at the market.

“I’m sorry to say that I don’t remember your age.” Byleth said flatly. “I'm not very good at remembering this sort of thing." 

As Byleth waited for the tea to finish, he began placing the treats on display. 

"...In fact, I never learned of my father’s age and have only recently discovered how old I am.” Byleth added, attempting at friendly conversation.

“You’ve only recently discovered your age?” Lysithea asked, choosing not to address her own. 

It was certainly odd that her professor wouldn’t know his own age. Last time she had asked, he told her it was seventeen or eighteen ‘depending on how drunk Jeralt is when I ask’. However he also admitted that Hanneman had his age reported at sixteen. That’s how old Lysithea was today. While her Professor was certainly young, it was hard to imagine that she and him were the same age now.

“Yes.” Byleth said plainly, not answering the obvious follow up question.

“How old would that be?”

Byleth paused for a moment, his brow crunching slightly. His hand rose to his mouth, a reflective hum softened by it.

“Twenty-one, I think.” 

_‘I think?’_ Lysithea thought to herself. Though she supposed it did make sense for him to still be unsure. If Lysithea had found out she was twenty-one after being told she was five years younger all her life, she certainly would have been skeptical too. 

Still, twenty-one did seem a bit old to her. He didn't look any older than Claude or the other boys in her class. Or maybe...she just didn't want to believe he was that much older than her. Five years apart...it wouldn't be sinful. Or illegal now that she was sixteen. Perhaps a little scandalous since she was still in—well, it wasn't as though Lysithea had romance or her mind or anything.

...But if someone were to see them sitting together, they might get that idea.

“The tea is done.” Byleth said, pouring her a cup.

“Thank you, Professor.” Lysithea said sweetly, sipping the tea, but pausing a moment when it burned her tongue. 

Lysithea set her cup down and gracefully positioned herself properly, turning to her professor who—having never grown up in a noble household—slouched in his chair slightly, indulging himself with some of the lain-out sweets.

Her professor wasn’t much good at carrying a conversation, he would often listen to Lysithea talk about magic, Crests, or even something simple like sweets or fashion, and occasionally interject with an opinion of his own. Still, he would usually at least begin the tea party by asking her what she wished to discuss. 

This time, however, Byleth had chosen to merely drink tea and enjoy the food in silence. This was fine, Lysithea was happy to just relax in his company while enjoying the pleasures of sweets. Still...she couldn't help but wonder if everything was OK. It was hard to tell with her stony-faced professor.

The two ate quietly. The professor certainly went all out with the sweets for her today, which was saying a lot since he was known for piling on the treats during his tea parties. Macaroons, chocolate filled puff-pastries, raspberry tarts... Lysithea almost felt a little guilty indulging herself, surely this had cost her professor a small fortune. She glanced at him, noting an absence in the subtle but consistent facial cues Byleth would make whenever he enjoyed sweets.

“Nervous about our mission, Professor?” Lysithea asked.

“Yes.” Byleth answered simply, his voice unchanging.

Lysithea shook her head. Perhaps that had been a stupid question. Of course he was nervous. She was nervous too, as were the other Golden Deer. But it would have been rude of her to simply ignore the state her professor was in right now.

“That’s understandable.” Lysithea said. “Everyone else is uneasy as well. That said, we’ll be looking out for you, so don’t worry.” 

Byleth nodded in acknowledgement, but didn’t initially respond. Lysithea gave a small, inaudible sigh of dejection.

“Thank you, Lysithea.” Byleth finally said after an extended pause. 

He realized he was being rather standoffish, which wasn’t polite, considering the occasion. Lysithea was clearly trying to make conversation, and the least he could do was reciprocate her efforts. 

“Also, I would like to apologize for my unavailability for training lately" Byleth added. "How have you been keeping up?”

“Well enough, I suppose. But really, there’s no need for apologies.” Lysithea said, shaking her head.

All things considered, she was grateful for the amount of attention her professor was still giving her and the other students after recent events. When Jeralt had died, she and the other Golden Deer students had expected Hanneman and Manuela to step in as substitutes...but they didn’t. 

Even if Byleth had skipped out on some seminars, he had reliably shown up for their very next class session. Though admittedly, a part of her wished he hadn’t. Whether the other students had noticed or not, it had been clear to Lysithea that her professor was trying to hide his emotions and prevent himself from breaking down mid-lecture...it had been painful to watch.

“Only one month remains before graduation. If you wish, we can use this time to redouble your training.” Byleth offered.

“I would enjoy that, yes.” Lysithea said with a smile, though she noticed a subtle change in her professor’s face. He looked...defeated. “Of course, I wouldn’t wish to trouble you. If you’re too busy with work—”

“No. I would like to continue our training.” Byleth said firmly. 

He meant it. That much was clear. But then why was he acting like this? The way he was behaving, it was starting to remind Lysithea of how he had been when he first taught their class. Distant, non-expressive, anti-social, aloof...

Lysithea pondered for a moment, wondering what the best way would be to gauge his emotions...but then she remembered an earlier conversation she had with Byleth many months ago. This was back when he hardly ever expressed himself at all. He never smiled, was always stony-faced, and very difficult to read.

In fact, it was during one of their tea parties that Lysithea had commented on this. At the time, she had been worried that the professor wasn't enjoying her company. In response, Byleth had simply told her:

_'If you want to know how I am feeling, then you may ask. I’m not trying to hide anything from you.'_

Lysithea swallowed.

“Um, Professor? How are you feeling?” Lysithea asked, her cheeks turning a faint pink. Why was it so awkward to ask such a simple question? 

Byleth pondered for a moment before answering, placing his chin in his hand. How _was_ he feeling?

“I feel a sense of...melancholy.” Byleth decided. That was the best he could describe it.

Lysithea blinked. “You mean you’re upset, Professor?” She asked.

“Yes. But...there is more to it.” Byleth paused, his gaze becoming somewhat unfocused. “I’m also confused.”

“Does this...have to do with your father?” Lysithea asked with a worried brow and fingers pinching on her sleeve. 

Truthfully, there were many reasons her professor might be upset and confused. They were all confused. What was this power he had obtained? What was in store for them at the Holy Tomb? Why had a ‘ghost’, who claimed to be goddess, been haunting their professor all this time?

“Yes.” Byleth responded. Lysithea nodded, her hand rising to her lips. It would make sense that—“No.” Byleth abruptly added.

Lysithea blinked at her professor’s sudden indecisiveness. Looking back up to him, she found his brow pinched in a troubled way, eyes cast to his tea as though it may provide him with answers and clarity. 

Confused about his own confusion. At the moment, Byleth's emotions were so intense and yet...he couldn’t pinpoint the source of this intensity. Yes, he still felt miserable after losing Jeralt, and yes, he was worried about their mission...particularly Lady Rhea. But there was something else. Something that was greatly weighing on his mind.

Was it...Lysithea? He felt a stir of emotions as he watched his student help herself to another raspberry tart, her eyes still fixated on him. Perhaps she was connected to this? In a sense, Byleth felt this was true. But it wasn’t just her...it was something to do with _all_ of his students. 

Byleth considered these feelings for a moment. They were similar to how he felt after Jeralt's death. Byleth recalled that when he wept, his students wept alongside him. And as he desired revenge, so too did they.

They had all been focused on revenge to the point of recklessness, and yet it had been Lysithea who pleaded for caution, fearful that she might lose her professor. It reminded him of how Jeralt treated him...his father's doting had always been a pet peeve of his, and yet hearing it from Lysithea had given Byleth a new appreciation for Jeralt...and it made him realize something.

...He didn't want to lose her either. Or rather, Byleth didn't want to lose any of his students. Just as Lysithea had feared for him, he too had feared for her. Byleth had realized how irresponsible it was to drag them into his personal vendetta and had even considered going after Jeralt's killer on his own. He didn't want to endanger his student's lives, but knew they would have joined him regardless of his wishes.

Yes, that’s what Byleth felt right now. Fear. A sense of sadness at the idea of losing any of his precious students. And yet, it didn’t come with the same sense of protectiveness he had felt after Jeralt’s death. And now that Monica was dead, he had nothing to be afraid of. So why did he feel this way?

“No?" Lysithea asked, the flat of her fingers pressing against her cheeks in thought. "Does it have to do with the Holy Tomb? Or your friend, the gho—the uh, spirit?” 

Lysithea shivered slightly, classifying Sothis as a ‘spirit’ didn’t make the situation any less unnerving.

“The upcoming mission does make me feel anxious.” Byleth admitted, subconsciously gorging himself with more sweets. “And...I do miss her. Sothis.” 

Byleth paused for a moment to consider his feelings yet again. His emotions were generally subdued, but he was feeling so many different things at the moment that it was hard to process them all. Lysithea could see this on his face, and so remained quiet, allowing him to think it over.

The two sipped their tea in silence and Byleth continued to eat sweets at a rapid pace. Lysithea recognized that he was stuffing his emotions just as she often did, likely unaware of what he was doing. Still...how could he remain so composed and look mature while cramming mouthful after mouthful of cake down his throat? Lysithea almost felt a little jealous for it.

Byleth paused, stopping himself as he reached for another macaron. While it was true that Lysithea never complained about enjoying her sweets with him, he realized he was starting to consume more than his fair share. This was her birthday after all.

“Professor?” Lysithea spoke gently.

“I’m sorry. I was being inconsiderate.” Byleth said, lowering his hand that had been reaching for the macaron, and she could see the briefest flicker of apology in his eyes. “I’m not acting like a good host.”

“You should speak freely, Professor. Speaking your mind helps you better understand your feelings.” Lysithea said, talking from experience. Though in her case, she had more trouble keeping her emotions inward.

Byleth considered her for a moment. He rarely spoke deeply of his feelings to anyone, let alone his students. He didn't want to appear...weak. Up until now, Byleth had always kept his more personal feelings between himself and Sothis. Sothis, who he had been able to confide in secrecy, who knew him inside and out, who could often understand his feelings without even being told.

Was it truly OK for him to speak so openly to Lysithea? To any of his students, who leaned on him for strength and guidance? Perhaps there was no use hiding it. Lysithea had already seen through him. And maybe it would be unwise to ignore her advice. The last time he did, it had cost him something dear. Nothing physical, as Lysithea had feared, but it had cost him his closest friend and companion.

“Is this about...her?” Lysithea pressed. She was referring to Sothis, of course.

“Yes.” Byleth paused again. “...No.”

Lysithea frowned.

“There’s something else...” Byleth said.

“Professor?”

Byleth pondered for a moment. “Next month...you will be graduating. And I find myself unsure on what to do anymore.”

“You mean you're uncertain of your future, Professor?” Lysithea clarified, tilting her head. “Don’t you plan to continue teaching at the Officer’s Academy?”

“I have no desire to stay here.” Byleth said bluntly, taking Lysithea aback.

“I'll admit, that's surprising to hear." Lysithea said with wide eyes. "I had always thought you enjoyed teaching at the Academy.” 

Byleth, who noticed that Lysithea seemed a little hurt by his statement, shook his head.

“That’s not it. This place just makes me feel...uneasy.” His brow furrowed again.

“Oh, well, I can definitely relate to that.” Lysithea sighed in agreement

He didn’t need to explain it to her. The kidnapping of Flayn, the incident at Remire Village, the death of his father, and this latest incident with the Goddess...Lysithea couldn't blame him for being nervous. Even she was a bit worried for his well being.

Since the events at the Sealed Forest, Byleth's hair had changed to a greenish color that many students compared to Rhea's. However, when compared to Rhea, Seteth, and Flayn, Lysithea thought her professor's hair seemed faded. As if it was...losing its pigment. Lysithea shook her head, she didn’t want to think about that. She instinctively grabbed one of the cake slices and shoved it down her mouth.

There was a brief moment of silence.

“I’m not sure why but...I don’t want to teach another class after yours.” Byleth muttered suddenly.

Lysithea’s eyes widened.

“Wait, are you saying...you’re going to miss us when we’re gone?”

Byleth didn’t respond. His face remained neutral...and yet he quickly turned away from Lysithea, unable to meet her eyes. 

“Aw, Professor!” Lysithea cried, almost tempted to reach out and hug him.

Byleth just sipped his tea in silence, using the teacup to hide his face that, despite remaining expressionless, had turned a faint shade of pink. He continued drinking his tea for a prolonged period of time, refusing to meet his student’s gaze. 

“You can drop the act, Professor, I know it’s true!" Lysithea said crossly, folding her arms. “And really, it’s not like you have anything to be shy about because...well...we’ll miss you too.” 

Now it was her turn to blush.

“The sentiment is appreciated." Byleth said gently. "And yes...I will miss you very much. But more than that, I have lost my father. And Sothis. They were my only constant companions. When you leave, I will...be very alone.” 

His eyes turned downcast.

“I see. But what of your mercenary friends? Will you not be joining them again?” Lysithea asked.

“Jeralt made a point of traveling with different groups for each mission. He didn’t seem to want to grow close to anyone.” 

Byleth frowned. Until recently, he had never truly appreciated the lengths that Jeralt went to hide him from Rhea—even going as far as to lie about his age. Just who was Rhea really? And why did Jeralt fear her so much?

“But surely you would still be more than capable on your own, Professor.” Lysithea pointed out, but Byleth shook his head.

“I’m not so sure I could handle it by myself." Byleth admitted. "Jeralt handled all the contracts. He knew where to find jobs, he had connections, and he knew how to treat nobles. I would just wait at an inn or at camp until I was told to kill something.”

“That _is_ certainly odd.” Lysithea said, biting into a cookie. “Still, you’re not so bad off as you might think. After all, you did just spend the last year getting to know the heirs of the Alliance's Five Great Lords.”

“Are you saying to have work for me?” Byleth asked.

“Well...Ordelia territory has certainly had its fair share of problems as of late. More than our troops can handle. You would certainly be the first one I called if we needed a competent mercenary or commander.” Lysithea said with a smile. “And I’m sure that the others feel the same way.”

“You think so?”

“Absolutely!" Lysithea exclaimed. "I’d bet Lorenz is already singing your praises to Count Gloucester. And no doubt Hilda must have mentioned you to her brother. Surely you realize that anybody would be impressed by your capabilities, Professor.”

“I see.” Byleth put a hand to his chin, pondering for a moment, the early signs of a smile appearing on his face.

“Of course...there are always other things you could do in the Alliance as well. Become a knight. Or a bodyguard. I’m surprised Claude hasn’t invited you to become a military advisor for House Riegan. And um, well...” Lysithea paused awkwardly.

“What is it, Lysithea?”

“If you really want us to be your students so badly, I suppose you could always be hired as my tutor. You could stay with me—a-at Ordelia territory that is.” Lysithea added, blushing slightly.

“Your tutor?” Byleth inquired.

“I had plans to continue my independent study once I left Garreg Mach but...it would be easier if you were there to oversee my training. The job wouldn’t be much different than the one you hold now, actually. Assist with my studies, help me train, occasionally join me during missions. Except...it would just be the two of us.” Her face was turning redder.

“A job in the Alliance...” Byleth considered. It did seem ideal.

“But hey, um...even if you don't do that...do you think you might...visit me from time to time?” Lysithea asked, almost pleadingly. 

Byleth fixed his gaze upon her, meeting her eyes with his own. Lysithea shrank slightly in her seat but continued. 

“Once this is all over, I’m going to keep pushing myself to reach my fullest potential. And...I want you to be there to see it.”

“Of course." Byleth nodded, and this time he really _did_ smile. "I wouldn’t miss seeing my student’s growth for anything.”

“It's settled, then." Lysithea said with a smile of her own. "When the school term is over, you will be joining us in the Alliance. Is that a promise, Professor?”

Lysithea's eyes were pleading with him and Byleth frowned for a moment. 

“I don’t like making promises.” Byleth admitted, but found himself unable to say 'no' to her, especially when she made that face. “But since it is your birthday...I guess I will make an exception. Yes, I promise to accompany my students to the Alliance once this is all over.”

“Thank you, Professor!” Lysithea said cheerfully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something I always found funny. Apparently in Flayn's S support, she treats the knowledge of Sothis living in Byleth's head like it's news, but in the Golden Deer path Byleth tells his students everything about Sothis. At first I thought he had just told Claude, but right before going into the Holy Tomb, Claude repeats it in front of everyone else like they're all aware at this point.
> 
> Anyway, something I had wanted to establish was the idea of Byleth's students expecting to see him in the Alliance during the timeskip. It further adds to the idea that their professor is actually missing, rather than just living his life somewhere else.


	14. Reunion at Dawn (Verdant Wind: 12/25)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five years have passed since the Battle of Garreg Mach. Byleth returns to the monastery, reflecting on the passage of time, until coming across his former student, Claude who brings Byleth up to date regarding the status of the Golden Deer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I. Suck. At. Titles.
> 
> Anyway, we've finally made it to the timeskip. I'm not sure how long this will be, since the timeskip portion o three houses is shorter and I don't have as many ideas, but I can at least promise oh...six or seven chapters. Also depending on whether I get requests.

**Verdant Wind**

**Reunion at Dawn**

**Day 25 of the Ethereal Moon**

Five years.

That's how long the villager said it had been since the Battle of Garreg Mach. Had Byleth truly been asleep all that time? Was it even possible? Why was he alive? Why hadn't he died of starvation? Or eaten by some stray animal? These were the questions Byleth pondered as he made his way to the Garreg Mach Monastery. 

“No beard...” Byleth muttered to himself, rubbing his own chin.

Upon hearing today's date, Byleth had wasted no time in making his way back to the monastery. He hadn't even gotten a chance to check his reflection. After all this time, he thought he might have grown a beard like Jeralt...or at least have longer hair. His light green hair was overgrown, yes, but no more so than usual.

Byleth passed through the destroyed monastery gate and let out a sigh. He was at the old marketplace now. Destroyed. Completely abandoned. Stalls torn down, tables and chairs tossed all over the place, several carts lying in ruin. The remains of knights, imperial soldiers and—

“Damn.” Byleth swore, much more upset that his emotionless face let on.

—a student who hadn’t evacuated in time, were littered all across the ground. After all this time, there was no telling who the student was. Not one of his Golden Deer, Byleth selfishly hoped.

Naively, Byleth had thought his class might be waiting for him in the marketplace, eager to greet their professor. But that clearly wasn’t the case. And the way things were looking, there was no guarantee they would show up to the monastery in  _ this  _ state, promise or no promise. They were all from the Alliance, so perhaps they had chosen to hold the reunion in Derdriu instead.

...Or perhaps they were dead.

Byleth groaned slightly, feeling sick to his stomach at the very idea that any of his precious students had been killed. No. They couldn’t die. They were  _ his  _ students. It was more likely they were in Derdriu right now. Holding a Golden Deer reunion.

Without him. 

It was a lonely thought, but that didn’t matter right now. All that mattered was that they were alive.

It would probably be better to turn around and begin trekking to the Alliance. He couldn’t imagine his students wanting to go further in the monastery. Hilda would have been disgusted by all the remains of fallen soldiers and Lysithea would have been too terrified of ghosts. 

In spite of the awful predicament he found himself in, Byleth couldn't help but give a small nostalgic smile, remembering Lysithea's irrational fear of ghosts. She would often visit his office in the dead of night and make silly excuses for him to accompany her to the bathroom.

_ “I’ve heard rumors that the Death Knight was spotted near the girl’s lavatory. You should probably go investigate, Professor—in fact, I’ll come too...for your protection!” _

If the situation had been different, Byleth might have laughed at this memory. But he was still nervous about the state of his students. 

Just as Byleth was about to turn back, however, he paused. Was it possible his students were in the dining hall? ...That’s the first place Raphael would go. Deciding it couldn't hurt to investigate further, Byleth made his way up the stairs and towards the entrance hall.

_ “Greetings, Professor! Nothing to report!” _

Nothing to report indeed. Byleth sighed as he made his way inside. The massive door the gatekeeper normally guarded had been blown clean off its hinges, but all things considered, the entrance hall was in surprisingly good shape. The tile was cracked, and the banners were tattered, but the furnishing was largely untouched, and the pillars remained standing. Unfortunately nobody was here.

Byleth made his way up the stairs and glanced inside the dining hall. No sign of life. Several tables were tossed or split in half, with chairs strewn all across the room. Byleth frowned. Raphael would have been heartbroken to see the dining hall in such condition.

_ "This is delicious! My absolute favorite!" _

Still, he wasn’t ready to give up yet. There was a slim possibility that his students were waiting for him in the Golden Deer classroom. Byleth made his way outside the entrance hall, passing the gazebo on his way. He glanced at the tables, fondly remembering his tea parties with Lorenz, Lysithea, and Edelgard.

_ "Did you go out of your way to select my favorite tea? Thank you for the thought." _

...Edelgard. She was the most eager to discuss politics and ideology. Even Lorenz had other things on his mind. Byleth remembered how she always seemed to look to him for advice. For validation. 

And...he remembered how indifferent he had been to the idea of war back then. He simply saw it as an inevitability in Fodlan’s future. It probably was. But Byleth had always imagined himself being there for his students. Protecting them.

Now that he thought about it, Byleth couldn't say for sure if Fodlan was still at war. The villager mentioned a war, didn't he? Was it still going on? Byleth cursed himself for not asking. Judging by the state of the monastery, the Empire had not been defeated. No, Edelgard won that battle. But what was the state of Fodlan? Had the Kingdom and Alliance chosen to follow Edelgard against the Church or were they at war with her as well?

Byleth made his way past the dead shrubbery and towards the classrooms. He already knew, from the lack of sound, that he wouldn’t find his students inside, but he opened the door to the Golden Deer homeroom regardless. Once inside, Byleth instinctively glanced towards Hilda’s desk as he strolled by, as if to check whether she was sleeping during his lecture or gossiping with Marianne...but obviously Hilda wasn’t here.

None of them were.

_ “Let the lesson begin.” _

Byleth stood at his desk and faced the class of imaginary students. If it were a seminar, all the desks would be filled, but during homeroom period, roughly half the desks were filled. The back row would be unused and Hilda would sit with Marianne in the third row. 

Marianne prefered to be as far back as possible, but was able to keep up with the assignments in spite of this. As long as Hilda didn't distract her anyway. Sometimes Byleth would suggest Hilda move up a row, but Hilda would always insist that Marianne would get lonely without her. To Byleth's shame, this emotional manipulation tactic always worked. 

...Lazy as she was, Hilda could be surprisingly clever.

The second and first rows would often shift depending on who made it early. Studying wasn’t Raphael’s strong suit, but it wasn’t from a lack of effort. He would pick the closest seat he could, his expression focused and his brow furrowed as he tried to follow along with Byleth’s lesson. 

Was Raphael fighting in the war as a knight of the Alliance?

Leonie would usually be in the second row, probably next to Ignatz. She would often chime in if Byleth’s lesson coincided or conflicted with something Jeralt had taught her. Sometimes Ignatz would timidly speak up and ask that she refrain from interrupting the lesson. Byleth didn’t mind though, he hated one-sided lectures and enjoyed discussing tactics with students who were willing.

Leonie...she would be a mercenary now, wouldn’t she? What was the likelihood that she was travelling with one of Jeralt’s old mercenary companies? Or maybe her path had diverged and she had joined the Alliance’s military force to fight in the war? 

And Ignatz...he was strong now. So much stronger than he had been when he first joined the academy. But was he cut out for war? ...Byleth wasn’t sure. It’s a horrible thing when a teacher prays for his student’s failure, but Byleth found himself hoping that Ignatz gave up knighthood and pursued his artistic passion instead.

Flayn and Lysithea would always be in front of the class. Both surprisingly eager to learn. Flayn was a gentle soul and she clearly held no love for combat, and yet she always seemed so excited to study battle tactics. Perhaps her way of gaining independence from Seteth? 

And Lysithea...Byleth still didn’t understand what Lysithea saw in him as a teacher, but she would always come to class 20 minutes early just to get the front seat.

Then again, he felt that way towards many students. Byleth had joined the academy with no experience in teaching, with almost no knowledge of magic, no proper education of his own, and his social skills were...terrible, to be frank. And yet, for whatever reason, his students all seemed to really enjoy his teaching.

But then...that’s what pushed Byleth to work so hard, wasn’t it? He almost felt guilty teaching at first. Lorenz had exceptionally high standards, Leonie was always comparing him to Jeralt, Raphael needed all the help he could get if he was going to graduate, and Hilda and Marianne needed someone who believed in them. 

As for Lysithea...even towards the end of the year, Byleth still didn’t feel qualified to teach someone as brilliant and hard working as her. And yet, strangely enough, out of all his students, it was Lysithea who praised his teaching the most.

Byleth sighed. They weren’t here. His students definitely hadn’t come. And yet he couldn’t bring himself to turn back. Not yet. Instead, Byleth made his way to the cathedral. Perhaps Marianne was praying there? Or perhaps Ignatz had come to admire the art? It was a very slim chance, but...no harm in checking. 

As he made his way across the field, Byleth couldn't help but feel a little...forsaken. Everyone had promised they would be here on this day and so far it appeared that none of them came. 

...Well, he couldn’t blame them. Five years ago, Byleth had promised Lysithea he would come to the Alliance when school ended. He failed in his promise. She was just returning the favor. And the others...well, who would want to return to a failure of a professor anyway?

Byleth clenched his fist.

It was a rare emotional moment for him. He was furious at himself. After all the praise he received for being a ‘brilliant strategist’, when it finally came time for a real battle—a battle that actually mattered—he had failed them. He failed Rhea, he failed Seteth, he failed the knights, and he failed his students. If he had just killed Edelgard, the war would have ended then and there.

But he didn’t.

When Byleth faced the Flame Emperor at the Holy Tomb, he had shown restraint, choosing to unmask rather than kill. Deep down, no matter how much he didn’t want to admit it to himself...he knew he was facing Edelgard. He felt an intense heat when facing the Flame Emperor...a heat he only felt when he fought Edelgard, during the mock battle, during the Battle of the Eagle and Lion, and the occasional sparring session.

No, he had known even  _ before  _ their battle, hadn't he? Yes, Byleth had known—or at least suspected—the Flame Emperor's identity for some time.

The moniker "Flame Emperor" was certainly suspect, but there was also the Sword of the Creator to consider. The Flame Emperor had sought out this sword...a sword that could only be properly wielded by one who bore the Crest of Flames. 

Their short stature, the thick armor that hid the sex of its wearer, and the way the Flame Emperor spoke...yes, he  _ knew  _ it was Edelgard. And yet...he hadn’t come forward with this information.

Byleth sighed, glancing down at the valley below as he crossed the bridge to the cathedral. It was because he had been  _ weak.  _ Connecting Edelgard to the Flame Emperor would require Byleth to reveal Edelgard's second Crest to Rhea and Seteth. If he were to do this, he would be going back on his word. Breaking the promise he made to his...

Student?

Friend?

Rival?

Flame?

_ "Do you remember the day we met? You protected me from those bandits." _

Byleth frowned. Why had he saved her back then? When the bandits attacked? It was the sort of thing Byleth would have done for any of his students  _ now, _ but back then? Throwing himself in harm’s way to protect someone else? It just wasn’t in his nature. Yet he had done it for her. For Edelgard.

He had acted without thinking, which was very unusual for him. Especially in those days, when his emotions were so subdued. Byleth pondered for a moment. Was it possible he acted because Edelgard was a girl? Byleth wasn't accustomed to being around women his age back then. Edelgard had been the first one in years.

...And, if he was honest, she was rather beautiful too. Short, petite, fair skinned, with lovely white hair, and captivating violet eyes. Clearly capable and yet...she seemed so vulnerable at the time. Byleth remembered feeling a heat in his chest—something compelling him to protect her. To save her.

For a time, Byleth believed he had acted on his heart. But now he was beginning to suspect that he had acted on his  _ Crest.  _

Hanneman often suggested that Crests could influence the behavior and actions of people. Byleth hated this concept. The idea that he wasn’t his own person. That his personality—and the personalities of others—came from their Crests. That his choices were because of his Crest. That even his taste in food—particularly sweets—came from his Crest.

“Damn the Crests...” Byleth muttered as he stepped into the cathedral.

And now he was starting to  _ sound  _ like Edelgard. But was that because of him? Or because of his Crest? The Crest they shared.

Byleth stared in surprise upon entering the cathedral. It was in complete disarray. Broken tile, ruined pillars, shattered windows, destroyed benches, the ceiling torn down, and a pile of rubble where a statue of the goddess once stood. With the cathedral so far back, Byleth was surprised it sustained such damage. The battle couldn't have been able to reach it.

How vulgar. Edelgard must have smashed the place up out of spite. This wasn’t to say Byleth didn’t understand her hatred for the Church. He sympathized with her ideals. And he resented the Church's depiction of Sothis as some vengeful deity. 

Or at least...that wasn’t the Sothis he knew. And the Sothis he knew didn’t desire worship or dependence on her either. She had always pushed for him to do things on his own. Still...Byleth would never be so vengeful as to spit in the faces of her faithful.

...More importantly, there wasn't a Golden Deer in sight. Byleth took a deep breath of frustration and stepped outside, glancing at the nearby tower.

There was one last thing he could try. He could use the Goddess Tower as a vantage point to see if he could spot anyone. As Byleth made his way to the tower, his mind wandered to the Garreg Mach Ball. The promised night. That was the last time he had visited this tower. Lysithea had joined him, hadn't she? Had he brought her here?

Byleth frowned, stepping inside. The memory was a blur in all honesty. It happened the day before Jeralt died. He recalled not having fun at the dance but...how did he end up in the Goddess Tower? 

...Right, he fled here. Lysithea had followed him.

And why did she come anyway? To make a vow? To check in on him? Well, they didn’t make a vow. Byleth didn’t fully remember what happened, but he did...something...to upset her. Thinking back on it now, he never did learn what that 'something' was. He had tried to find her, but she had disappeared. And that’s when he stumbled across Rhea...

Byleth frowned. Maybe if they  _ had  _ made a vow—a vow to the goddess that the Golden Deer would reunite one day—she would be in the monastery right now. Alive.

...No. This irrational thinking needed to stop. Sulking and blaming himself wasn’t going to solve anything. And it wasn't as though praying to Sothis would have helped the situation.

As Byleth made his way up the stairs, light began pouring in with the rising sun. At the top of the tower, an unknown figure stood in front of the open door, staring out onto the balcony.

“Huh?” The man turned to face Byleth. and smiled.

Byleth squinted, unable to recognize the stranger at first...but there was something about his features—

“You overslept, Teach. Pretty rude to keep a fella waiting like that, wouldn't you say?”

His voice was inviting...and familiar. Byleth stepped forward to get a better look at him, head tilted to the side in confusion. Suddenly, realization set in...  _ it was Claude. _

The reason Byleth had struggled to recognize his former student wasn’t because of his new regal looking outfit or even his matured face and beard. It was the smile that Claude was giving him.

The old Claude smiled like a conman...or maybe just a very greedy merchant. It was the smile Anna gave when she convinced Byleth that he needed more school supplies or that he should buy his tea in bulk. 

But the smile Claude was giving him now...it was the smile a little boy made when he opened his first birthday gift.

“What's with that surprised look, my friend?” Claude smirked, his gaze affectionate. “You didn't really think I'd given up on you coming back, did you?”

Although taken aback by his student's new appearance, Byleth smiled. Perhaps he shouldn’t be so surprised. Obviously, Claude would have grown up during this time.

“Can you feel it?” Claude asked, gazing out at the sky. “A new dawn is finally here. Not just for us, though. No, for all of Fodlan.”

Claude turned back to Byleth.

“It's been five long years. Where have you been, Teach? You don't really expect me to believe that you've been napping this whole time, do you?”

“I  _ was  _ sleeping,” Byleth affirmed.

“That's a good one!” Claude laughed. “Except...that's not your lying face. I guess I've got no choice but to believe you.”

“I have a ‘lying face’?” Byleth asked with a small frown, but Claude just sighed and ignored him.

“You're not exactly normal to begin with, so it's not a huge stretch to imagine you sleeping for that long.” Claude paused. “Aaand this is where you say, ‘just kidding.’ Right? If this is a rib, now's the time to fess up.”

“It's the truth,” Byleth asserted.

“You must be insane. And yet...fine. I believe you, OK?” Claude sighed as Byleth made a face. “But that means you don't know anything that happened after your last battle, right?”

Byleth nodded.

“I guess it's on me to catch you up.” Claude said wearily. “As you can see, Garreg Mach was crushed by the Empire and was never restored. The monastery is in ruins, and the town is in pretty bad shape too. Can you guess why?”

“Rhea has died?” Byleth guessed, his heart sinking.

Claude paused, placing a hand to his chin in thought before responding.

“Her body was never found, and the Empire never declared that she had been killed. So...no telling.” Claude replied vaguely. “All we know for sure is that Rhea suddenly vanished during that battle five years ago. The Knights of Seiros have apparently been searching all over Fodlan for her...but the fact that this place is still in ruins tells me they still haven't found her.”

“We must find her.” Byleth said. He did need to speak to her after all.

“True. I've got a mountain of questions I'd like to ask her, after all.” Claude frowned. “But I'm not so sure whether it would be good for her to return as the archbishop...rather, with her gone...”

Claude paused, glancing at Byleth.

“Yes?”

“Eh, never mind. This could be a dangerous conversation” Claude shrugged. “Before we discuss the state of affairs in each territory...are you hungry? You must be. It's not much, but I did bring some food with me. Let's eat up and go from there.”

Byleth nodded and followed Claude as he made his way back to the cathedral.

* * *

“I see your appetite is as ravenous as ever, eh Teach?” Claude smirked as Byleth ate the selection of food meticulously and at a rapid pace.

Back inside the cathedral, the two were sitting at the base of one of the pillars, eating from a picnic basket that Claude had brought with him.

“Thank you for the food.” Byleth said shortly, cramming down an apple, another drumstick, some cheese, and then a cake slice into his mouth all within a matter of seconds and somehow still speaking coherently.

Byleth glanced towards Claude while he ate, once again taking note of how different Claude’s smile was to how he remembered it back at the academy.

“Don’t mention it. I don't think I've ever seen anyone enjoy my home cooking with the same enthusiasm as you.” Claude laughed.

"It's edible." Byleth replied shortly.

This was Teach's 'polite' way of saying that the food wasn't leaving much of an impression on him. 

“Right, you never cared much for the subtle tastes of nobles, eh? You really haven’t changed at all, have you? Although, I guess that’s to be expected if you’ve been sleeping this whole time.” Claude sighed.

Claude now recalled that Teach always had unusual tastes. Or maybe 'extreme' tastes was a better way of describing it. He was somehow able to tolerate the mouth burning spiciness of Raphael's meats and was the only one who enjoyed the sickening amount of sugar Lysithea put her in treats—well besides Lysithea herself anyway.

"I prefer...emotional food." Byleth explained awkwardly.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Claude laughed briefly, until his smile fell into something more stern and serious. “But now that you’re out of hibernation, I guess it’s up to me to fill you in on current events. Since starting the war, Edelgard—”

“I don’t care about that.” Byleth interrupted, with a bit more harshness than he had intended. “Are the other students safe?”

There was a slight pause from Claude. He wasn't used to being addressed like this. Then again, this blunt way of speaking and disregard for noble status was just one of Teach’s old quirks.

“Right...I guess I should have expected that.” Claude muttered.

Byleth could see that Claude was frowning, but he wasn’t frowning in a way that suggested bad news. Rather, it was the look Claude made whenever his professor wasn’t complying with whatever agenda or scheme he had in mind. Byleth supposed some things never changed.

“Is everyone alive?” Byleth pressed.

“Most likely.” Claude shrugged dismissively. “I-I mean—yes. Yes, they are.” Claude clarified when he saw the horrified look on Byleth’s face.

“That wasn’t funny.” Byleth said, his blank expression returning.

“No—sorry, I wasn’t teasing you, Teach, I promise.” Claude assured him. “I just haven’t been in touch with everyone. I mean, Leonie’s a mercenary, so I haven’t heard from her in some time, but I’m sure she’s alive and well.”

Byleth sighed.

“If the Battle of Garreg Mach is the last thing you remember, then it makes sense that you’d be worried.” Claude said, giving him a sympathetic look.

“When did you last hear from Leonie?” Byleth asked, his monotone masking his concern.

“Mmm about...two years ago, I think.” Claude said thoughtfully. “Last I heard, she joined Jeralt’s old band of mercenaries. She’s had her hands full with the war and all, and she’s also been looking for you.”

“Looking for me?” Byleth frowned.

"Naturally. When you disappeared, the Golden Deer came together and pooled their resources to find our favorite professor." Claude winked.

Byleth just stared in confusion and Claude sighed.

"We set up a bounty for your safe return, Teach." Claude explained. "Many mercenary groups have been trying to find you, Leonie's included. But obviously nobody has come to collect.”

“I see...” Byleth said. “So, if Leonie is a mercenary...that would mean Ignatz and Raphael have become knights?”

“No such luck, I’m afraid,” Claude said, shaking his head. “Because of the war, none of us actually graduated from the academy. So, despite all the money and effort we put in, we have nothing to show for our time here. I mean, it isn’t a problem for a noble like me, but I hear those two are having trouble finding employment.”

Byleth couldn’t help but wonder why Claude hadn’t simply recommended them into House Riegan, but chose not to address this for the time being. Ignatz, at least, had a wealthy family to support him, but Byleth was worried about Raphael. He had sold just about everything he owned to get into the academy, and now couldn’t even support his sister as a knight.

“How is Raphael faring?” Byleth asked.

“As cheerful as always,” Claude chuckled. “I believe he runs an inn with his sister...at least until he can become a true knight.”

Byleth let out a sigh of relief.

“Did Ignatz become an artist then?”

Claude shook his head.

“The way I hear it, he was still having trouble standing up to his father.” Claude sighed. “From what I understand, business has been booming and Ignatz has been helping his older brother keep things running smoothly. Nothing like a war to bring the money in, eh Teach?”

Claude weakly chuckled, but Byleth didn’t laugh. A brief period of awkward silence followed.

"...I doubt the war has done much to motivate Hilda, ” Byleth commented.

“Not a bit,” Claude confirmed with an amused nod. “With a lack of Almyran invasions and the Alliance retaining its neutrality, things have been pretty peaceful back home. Besides political tension anyway.”

“She’s fallen back into her lazy habits?” Byleth asked, with a tone of slight disappointment.

“You know Hilda...” Claude shrugged. “Of course, you can’t blame her for being demotivated. It was difficult for her to move past your death. I think she mostly lounges around at home these days, but sometimes she’ll come—”

“My ‘death’?” Byleth interrupted, maintaining his composed expression, but his voice showing signs of worry.

“...You must have expected it, right Teach?” Claude asked with a sympathetic smile. “You disappear for five years; the Alliance’s best mercenaries can't find you...people assume the worst. And Hilda took it pretty hard.”

Byleth frowned. He hadn't even considered this.

“...I didn't know. Sorry.” Byleth muttered, staring at his lap.

He couldn’t help but feel a twinge of anger towards himself, yet again, for failing in the Battle of Garreg Mach.

“Hilda once told me that you were one of the first people to truly believe in her.” Claude said softly. “She was raised in nobility, so she’s had loads of teachers. But you’re the only one who never gave up on her. Did you know that?”

“…I did not.”

So Hilda believed he was dead...and his ‘death’ had demotivated her. She had come so far since joining the academy and it was because of him that she had fallen back on her lazy ways. Did that mean it was the same for the others?

“So, everyone thinks I’m dead?” Byleth asked.

“Not everyone,” Claude said with a wink. “After all,  _ you’re  _ the reason I came here, Teach.”

“Thank you, Claude,” Byleth murmured.

He really did mean it. He was glad that at least some of his students might have held on to hope. But now Byleth was worried again. How many others believed him to be deceased? How were they handling it? One student in particular came to mind...

“How did Marianne take it?” Byleth asked, unable to hide his anxiousness.

If anyone would fall into despair at the bad news, it would likely be Marianne. And yet, to Byleth’s surprise, Claude was smiling.

“Better than you’d think, actually.” Claude said, maintaining his lighthearted tone.

Byleth's eyebrows raised.

“Well, alright, that’s not entirely true.” Claude confessed. “I’ll admit, it was really...awful at first. She was going on about how you must be ‘waiting with the Goddess’.”

Byleth simply looked confused and Claude sighed before continuing.

“She suggested...it might be for the best if she ‘joined’ you. So you wouldn’t be so lonely.”

“That’s terrible...”

“It was for a while.” Claude admitted. “But we all came together and talked to her. We told her that ‘joining you’ isn’t what you would want. You would want her to stay strong, fight on, and be happy.”

Byleth nodded in approval.

“And it actually worked out. You really inspired her, Teach,” Claude revealed with a smile.

“And how is she?” Byleth asked.

“You should see for yourself.” Claude winked. “She’s become a real beauty. I could tell you more, but you really do have to see it to believe it. Trust me, Teach, she’s a lot happier now.”

“That’s good to hear.” Byleth said softly, managing to return Claude’s smile.

“Last I checked, Margrave Edmund has been showing her the ropes on how to govern territory.” Claude recalled. “Their relationship seems to have improved for the better as well.”

“And Lorenz would also be assisting with his territory?”

“That he is...I should also note that he thinks you’re alive as well, Teach.”

“Oh?” Byleth asked with a perched eyebrow.

“He believes the Empire wouldn’t have kept quiet if they managed to kill you. Your loss would have been a morale blow to any resistance.” Claude explained. “In that sense, I agree with him. However, his theory is that you’ve been working  _ with  _ the Empire this entire time.”

“Why would he think that?” Byleth frowned.

“After all this time, none of our mercenaries have been able to find you and the only area they haven’t been able to thoroughly search is the Empire.” Claude explained. “Meanwhile, we haven’t received word of Edelgard making her own attempts to find you. I’ve got to admit, even I suspected you might at least be hiding out in the Empire.”

“And he thought I was working with Edelgard?”

“The two of you were pretty close, Teach,” Claude pointed out. “According to Lorenz, you both shared similar viewpoints, especially when it came to Fodlan’s future.”

Byleth didn’t respond. It was true that he held a lot of sympathy towards Edelgard’s views, but it wasn’t as though he were politically engaged.

“Of course, I knew better,” Claude added in response to Byleth’s silence. “There’s no way you would engage in a bloody conquest to take control over Fodlan.”

Byleth still didn’t respond. Claude frowned; it was hard to determine how his professor was feeling at the moment. He had only started to gain a grasp on recognizing Teach’s subtle expressions back at the academy and it had been five years since then.

“Don’t take it personally, Teach.” Claude continued. “His house is imperial-aligned after all.”

Byleth's head snapped in Claude's direction. 'Imperial aligned'? Did that mean the Gloucesters had split from the Alliance? Had his worst fear been realized? That his students could potentially start fighting each other in a civil war?

“Lorenz is fighting for the Empire?” Byleth questioned nervously.

“No, nothing like that.” Claude assured him, shaking his head. “We’re all part of the Alliance, there’s just...eh, disagreements between certain nobles on what side we should take. House Ordelia is also imperial-aligned, but Lysithea can’t stand the Empire.”

Although grateful to hear this, Byleth couldn't help but feel surprised.

“She’s not supporting Edelgard?” Byleth asked.

Of all people, Lysithea seemed the most likely to support overthrowing the Crest-based system of nobility. Surely she would at least be rooting for Edelgard?

“Hm? Now why would she do that?” Claude asked.

“Nevermind...” Byleth muttered, shaking his head.

Claude frowned. It seemed like Teach knew something about Lysithea that he was keeping to himself. For the time being, however, that didn't matter. There were more pressing issues to deal with at the moment.

“Well, no, she isn’t," Claude clarified. "In fact, she was  _ furious  _ when Lorenz suggested you would be the one leading the Empire’s eventual conquest of the Alliance.”

Claude laughed and although Byleth didn’t smile, he did seem happier.

“...Lysithea is keeping up with her studies?” Byleth asked.

“Always working hard,” Claude chuckled, though his face quickly fell.

Byleth noticed this.

“...How is she?”

Claude didn’t immediately respond. He seemed to have trouble finding the words.

“She’s...I’m not sure." Claude finally said after a long silence. "Your 'death' really affected her, Teach.”

“What do you mean?” Byleth frowned.

Claude ran a hand through his hair, thinking on how to reply. Byleth found himself surprised at his hesitation. Lysithea was so strong. Out of all his students, Byleth was sure that she would have been the most resilient in the face of such trying times.

Some time passed. Still no response.

“Claude.” Byleth pressed.

“I...well, at first she didn’t seem to think you were dead.” Claude sighed. “In fact, she was always telling everyone how you were going to come to the Alliance to see us again.”

Byleth’s face noticeably fell at this comment. Seeing this, Claude hesitated for a few moments before reluctantly continuing.

“She made it seem as though...you made a promise about coming to Alliance. That you would check in with her progress as her professor.”

“...I did.” Byleth admitted shamefully. “She must resent me for not keeping it.”

“Not quite.” Claude shook his head. "I guess...it was easier for her to believe you were dead than it was to accept you’d gone back on your word."

There was a brief pause.

"I see." Byleth murmured quietly.

Another period of silence followed this. Byleth’s rapid eating had slowed to a halt. He stared outside, lost in thought, the feeling of failure reinforcing itself upon him.

"And you said she wasn't taking it well?" Byleth finally asked.

“It’s a long story.” Claude sighed.

“I want to hear it.”

“Really though, it’s not important. You’re alive and she—”

“I want to hear it.” Byleth repeated more forcefully.

“...It’s been awhile since I’ve seen her.” Claude sighed, rubbing his chin.

Byleth wasn’t deterred. Claude continued.

“You’re probably aware, but the Alliance is governed by a roundtable made up of the Five Great Lords.”

Byleth nodded.

“With the war going on, the Alliance is in the middle of a schism between those who oppose the Empire and those who support the Empire. Houses Gloucester and Ordelia have taken a pro-imperial stance to avoid invasion from the Empire. Houses Riegan and Goneril have taken an anti-imperial stance. And finally, House Edmund has maintained neutrality. Margrave Edmund seeks to profit off the war, so—”

“Get to the point,” Byleth urged, his usual monotone now showing signs of impatience.

Claude grunted in annoyance, but understood his professor’s frustration.

“Long story short, keeping the Alliance stable involves regular diplomatic visits to the neighboring lords.” Claude explained. “That includes Count Ordelia.”

“And you saw Lysithea during one of your visits?”

“Eventually.” Claude said vaguely, but he could immediately see that Byleth was losing patience again. “...Not at first, no. The first time I met with her father, she was acting...well, a bit like you, Teach.”

“What do you mean?” Byleth pressed.

“The way you did when...Jeralt passed.” Claude explained. “She wouldn’t see anyone. According to the count, she had spent nearly a month holed up in her room, with servants delivering her meals.”

Upon hearing this, Byleth looked...crushed and Claude, quickly taking note of this, added

“Still, that was about four years ago. She’s not like that now.”

“You talked to her?” 

“Eh, not quite,” Claude muttered darkly.

Byleth’s frown deepened.

“I told you, she wasn’t seeing anyone.” Claude reminded him. “She eventually sorted things out on her own. And that’s that.”

'That' was most certainly 'not that'. Byleth wanted answers.

“Is she OK?”

“She’s fine, Teach, I promise,” Claude assured him airily.

Byleth scowled intensely. Had Claude not known him so well, he might have actually been intimidated. Instead, he just sighed.

“Lysithea’s perfectly fine. But...she has changed.” Claude admitted with some hesitance.

“What do you mean?”

“She’s more mature.”

“You make that sound like bad news...” Byleth mused, frowning in confusion.

“She’s more grown-up but...well the rest isn't important.” Claude said, waving a hand. “What matters is that your Golden Deer are all safe and our favorite professor has returned to us.”

“It’s important to me.” Byleth insisted, reaching the end of his limit.

Claude grimaced. Teach just wasn’t going to let this go. Claude hesitated for a long time before finally speaking.

“...She’s not the same peppy girl you remember, Teach.”

Byleth had no response to this.

“And...she’s a bit restless,” Claude added.

“Restless?” 

“She’s been itching to fight the Empire, but she doesn’t have the means.” Claude explained. "To tell you the truth, she would have probably joined any rebellion were it available."

“Why is she so determined to fight the Empire?” 

“Besides being a threat to the Alliance's sovereignty? From what I can tell, it’s because of you.”

Byleth briefly winced with a mixture of surprise, confusion, and guilt.

“Me?”

“She blames the Empire for your ‘death’, Teach.” Claude nodded. “Although I suppose there's more to it. Apparently the Empire is to blame for House Ordelia's decline, but she wouldn't give me any details.”

“You spoke to her about it?”

“I did. I was hoping to rope her into my scheme against the Empire.”

“And did your scheme involve me?” Byleth guessed shrewdly.

Claude smiled at this, but it wasn’t a genuine smile. It was a fake smile. A sad smile.

“Lysithea had some choice words to say about that.” Claude sighed.

Claude didn’t want to elaborate on this, but he knew it was only a matter of time before Teach asked—

“What were they?”

Claude rubbed the back of his neck anxiously, before looking towards Byleth.

“It was a while ago, so I'm mostly paraphrasing but it was something like... _ ’I’m not a child anymore. The professor’s gone, Claude. He isn’t coming back. It doesn't matter how much we idolized him, he isn’t a fairy tale hero. He was another person, just like you and me and he died like anyone else. I’ve come to accept that a knight in shining armor isn’t coming to save me, so it’s time you grew up and did the same.’ _ ”

Byleth went completely silent. His face was unreadable, even to Claude, but he could tell that hearing this had an effect on the professor.

“She was speaking from a place of hurt.” Claude explained gently in a sympathetic tone.

Byleth still didn’t respond. He just sat there, blank expression, completely numb. Claude couldn’t bring himself to say anything else while the professor was in this state, so the two remained in silence for some time...

"...I'm sorry." Byleth finally said.

"Don't be, Teach," Claude consoled. "Your 'death' only had such an impact because everyone in the Golden Deer House looked up to you. You were an inspiration to Hilda, a positive force in Marianne’s life, and a role model for Lysithea too. She's really grown up since her days at the academy. I think you'd be proud of her."

Claude gave him an encouraging smile, but Byleth didn't return it. He never considered himself a worthy role model. Especially not now when the Battle of Garreg Mach was still fresh on his mind...and its consequences truly sank in.

“...What of Flayn?” Byleth asked, suddenly remembering that their class had a new addition halfway through the year. "How is she?"

“I’m not sure.” Claude admitted, frowning. “She isn't a member of the Alliance, so we haven’t kept contact. My guess is that she’s still with the Church. They’re still searching for Rhea, but if Seteth’s with her, you can bet that Flayn is safe.”

That was certainly true. Byleth let out a sigh of relief.

“And that’s what’s important.” Claude added. “I won’t pretend we haven’t had a rough time of it, what with the war and all, but none of that matters right now. What matters is that you’ve returned to us, Teach.”

“I suppose you’re right.” Byleth said.

“Of course I’m right.” Claude smirked.

The two went quiet and resumed their meal, eating in silence. After a few minutes, Claude finished the last of his food and rose to his feet. Byleth followed suit.

“Phew! I. Am. Stuffed.” Claude sighed with contentment. “Even the most humble of meals tastes great with the right company. By the way, Teach, do you remember the night before the ball? I know it was five years ago...but we promised that the Golden Deer House would reunite during the millennium festival.”

“Obviously.” Byleth said.

It was a foolish question. Why else would he have come all the way here?

“Well, today's the day we promised to meet up...but no one's here.”

“It's still early,” Byleth reminded him.

“True...there's still some daylight left...” Claude sighed thoughtfully. “Let's just wait a little longer. You never know...maybe someone will show up after all.”

There was quiet for a moment. And just as Byleth was about to suggest they wait in the market to more easily be found, Claude continued.

“Hey, Teach...just waiting around sounds boring, so why don't we get in some exercise. You know, help with digestion and stuff. You must be in bad shape if you've been sleeping for five years. It'll do you good to get your body moving again.”

“You want to work out?” Byleth asked incredulously.

“Something like that,” Claude nearly chuckled in a playful tone. “Look, if you come with me, you'll understand. Oh, and don't forget your weapons, OK? I want to make sure neither your leadership nor your skill with a blade have dulled.”

And without another word, Claude made his way outside the cathedral, beckoning his professor to follow. Byleth sighed. He had a feeling he was about to be roped into another one of Claude’s schemes...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Decided not to cover much on the current status of Fodlan. It always seemed weird to me that Claude was supposed to cover this during his meal with Byleth, and yet Byleth didn't know the kingdom had fallen. Hopefully I can get a few more chapters up before Wave 4 of the DLC...I imagine that playing that might cause a bit of a hiatus.


	15. Unfulfilled (Verdant Wind: 12/27)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Upon reuniting with his classmates, Claude proposes that the Golden Deer join forces with the Knights of Seiros to take down the Empire. Much to everyone's surprise, however, Byleth declines Claude's offer and instead wishes to seek out Lady Rhea. While Claude aims to change the mind of his former professor, Byleth catches up with his students...and in the wake of his broken vow finds himself face to face with Lysithea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of an announcement: I plan to take a small hiatus after this chapter. This isn't to say I won't be writing anymore--I'm already working on the next chapter--but before I post anything else, I want to complete Wave 4 of the DLC. I doubt the Ashen Wolves will be added in this late into the story but, as weird as it sounds from a fanfic writer, I prefer to keep things as close to canon as possible.
> 
> On the off chance that Wave 4 provides new lore material that contradicts what I have in mind or inspires me to add something to the story, I'm going to wait until I've completed it before officially posting anything new. Until then, I will be working on "beta versions" of the upcoming chapters, so don't expect to wait too long after the release for the next update.

**Verdant Wind**

**The Alliance Leader’s Ambitions**

**Day 27 of the Ethereal Moon**

It had been two days since the Golden Deer’s reunion. To the surprise of no one, Claude had used this get-together as an opportunity to rope his old friends into another one of his schemes. But not just any scheme...Claude wanted to fight the Empire.

Just as Claude had hoped, all of his former classmates had joined in on his plan, even Lorenz. It had been an uplifting moment when each of the students, one by one, had pledged their support to bringing the fight to the Empire and beginning Fodlan’s new dawn. Unfortunately, Claude’s scheme had hit a snag...for there was one person who refused to join the fight.

The professor had declared that he would rather find Lady Rhea than join the war.

In response to this, Claude had encouraged Byleth to reconsider his position and join them, giving the professor time to think things over before making a final decision. Unfortunately for Claude, Byleth was still set in his choice. He had no investment in the war, and held no desire to fight Edelgard or the Black Eagles. Now that Byleth knew the Golden Deer were safe, his only concern was finding Rhea and getting answers.

Regardless, Byleth had joined the others in repairing the monastery. Even if he had no interest in the war, he would need the Knights of Serios for information and assistance if he wanted to find Rhea. 

...Also, the monastery was the closest thing Byleth had to a home at the moment and it was where his parents were buried as well. Whatever his views on the faith were, Byleth wanted the monastery to be taken care of.

“Ooorraaah!” Raphael roared, lifting another boulder.

Flayn clapped cheerfully as Raphael removed one of the boulders blocking the stables, while Ignatz frantically carried away some of the smaller rocks.

“Are you sure you don’t need help?” Byleth asked, as Raphael approached an even larger boulder, that was nearly the same size as he was.

“You’ve got nothing to worry about, Professor. I’ve been working my muscles nonstop these last few years!” Raphael boasted, stooping down to grip the massive boulder.

“There’s no need to—” Byleth started.

“Got it!” Raphael grunted, picking up the massive boulder. “S-See? No problem!”

“...Not bad. You  _ have  _ been training your muscles well,” Byleth complimented.

“Hurrghaaah!” Raphael bellowed again, throwing the boulder behind him.

“Eep!” Flayn gasped, holding a hand to her mouth as the boulder landed right next to her.

“Oops! Sorry about that!” Raphael called out sheepishly.

Byleth frowned. Raphael’s muscles were bigger but there were still areas he needed more ‘training’ in.

“That should free up the stables, at least...” Ignatz sighed as Marianne led Dorte past him.

“You missed your home, didn’t you, Dorte?” Marianne said, stroking his nose and leading him into the stables. “Don’t worry, I’ll fetch you some water and fresh hay.”

“You’re smiling,” Byleth commented, unable to resist smiling himself as he approached her.

“Oh, Professor! I um...” Marianne stuttered, unsure how to respond.

“See? I told you he would notice, Marianne!” Hilda called brightly, approaching from behind.

“Hey, Hilda. We just finished clearing the stables. Did you have any more work for us?” Ignatz asked.

“Um, no. I just came here to tell you guys that the knights managed to secure some supplies from the nearby village.” Hilda explained. “Everyone’s in the dining hall, if you want to take a break.”

“People are eating without us?! If we don’t hurry, we won’t make it in time for seconds!” Raphael cried, running at full speed to the dining hall.

“Haha, with Raphael’s energy, we should be able to clean up the monastery in no time.” Ignatz grinned. “Hm, I think I’ll go to the dining hall too.”

“And what about you, Professor?” Hilda asked.

‘Professor’...for some reason they were all still addressing him by his title.

“I’ll join as well.” Byleth nodded, following Hilda.

“Oh! I’m coming too!” Marianne added, tagging along once she finished filling Dorte’s water.

Byleth glanced at Marianne while she kept pace with him. She wasn’t smiling anymore, but there was still something different about her. She looked more...refined. Dignified. Like a noble woman.

“I never thought I would see Dorte again,” Byleth commented.

Truthfully, Dorte hadn’t been his most pressing concern upon returning to the monastery. Obviously, Byleth had been more worried about his students, but he was surprised to see Marianne’s companion once more. He had assumed all the horses would have perished or fled from the monastery after all these years.

“Oh! Well...I found him during the Battle of Garreg Mach,” Marianne explained. “He was injured, and his knight was nowhere to be found so...I-I healed him and brought him home.”

There was a bit of a stutter in her voice, obviously Marianne felt guilty for stealing a horse from the monastery, but more importantly, Byleth noticed that she wasn’t speaking in the same soft whisper she used to. Her voice was more...forceful—no,  _ confident. _

“You’re not as quiet as before,” Byleth pointed out.

“If I’m too loud, I could, um, lower my voice...” Marianne suggested meekly.

Byleth shook his head, giving her a small smile.

“I prefer this change.”

“Oh...thank you, Professor!”

As the three made their made way into the dining hall, Byleth could hear Claude calling out

“Hey, Teach, over here!”

Claude was seated at a table in the far corner along with Lorenz, Leonie, Lysithea, Flayn, and Seteth. Raphael and Ignatz were already on their way to join them.

“There they are!” Hilda waved. “Come on, let’s go!”

Hilda beckoned Byleth and Marianne to follow. Byleth glanced at the dining tables as he passed. Due to the shortage of rations, they couldn’t afford to serve meals buffet style anymore. Everyone had the same plate of food available to them.

“Oh, Professor! Over here!” Leonie called, patting the seat next to her. “I want to tell you all about my time as a mercenary. Maybe share some tips?”

A full plate of food was already waiting for him next to her, so Byleth nodded and took his seat—

“PROFESSOR!” Alois’ voice boomed from behind him.

Suddenly, without warning, Byleth and Leonie found themselves being embraced by Alois, who sent Byleth flying face-first into his plate of food.

“Mmmfff...!”

“Professor!” Ignatz gasped.

“Careful Alois.” Catherine laughed as she approached the table, offering Byleth a cloth.

“Oh, ah...sorry Professor.” Alois apologized sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

Byleth wiped his face, hiding any trace of annoyance behind his expressionless gaze. How odd it was that, after all these years, even a knight like Alois would address Byleth by his title.

“...I’ve been meaning to ask. Why do you all call me ‘Professor’?” Byleth asked once he finished cleaning himself.

Everyone went quiet.

“Weeelllll, you  _ are  _ our Professor, aren’t you?” Hilda said, awkwardly breaking the silence.

Byleth frowned.

“It is appropriate to address one as respected as yourself by their title,” Lorenz added.

“And what about you, Alois?” Byleth asked.

“Hm? Me? Oh well I...uh...” Alois paused awkwardly.

“He doesn’t know your name,” Shamir stated bluntly, appearing next to Catherine and giving Alois a small smirk.

“He never told me!” Alois sulked. “When I asked the students, none of them could tell me either! And I was too embarrassed to ask the captain.”

Byleth blinked and turned to face the students.

“None of you know my name?” He asked.

Another period of awkward silence. Lysithea glanced up from her book, gazing at the professor skeptically. Byleth. Byleth Eisner. That was his name. That’s what Hanneman called him anyway. Did he remember that day?

“I might have known it but...I think I forgot.” Raphael chuckled.

“Uh, I don’t think you ever told us, Professor.” Ignatz said awkwardly.

“You never once told the students your name?” Seteth asked, glaring in disapproval.

“Must have slipped my mind.” Byleth admitted.

“First day of class, you gave  _ no  _ introduction.” Hilda recalled. “Just came in and said ‘I’m in charge now’.”

“Aloof and to the point, just like the captain!” Alois laughed.

“Oh, I remember now!” Leonie added. “When you originally joined, nobody took you seriously at first, did they? ...Well besides me, of course. I knew a child of the captain had to possess some talent.”

Lysithea gave a distinct sniff, but otherwise remained quiet, buried behind her book.

“I guess you’ll always be ‘Professor’ to them, huh?” Catherine laughed. “Although I wouldn’t mind having a proper way to address you. Spill it. What’s your name, ‘Professor’?”

Everyone stared at Byleth intensely. Even Lysithea. ...  _ Especially  _ Lysithea. She already knew his name, but she wanted to see how he would respond. But before Byleth could speak—

“Byleth Eisner.” Flayn piped up, a trace of pride in her voice.

Byleth raised an eyebrow.

“And how did you come to know that?” Claude questioned with a tone of amusement.

“My brother was researching the professor,” Flayn answered. “As I recall, he was conducting an investigation to build a profile.”

“Do not take it personally,” Seteth said, upon seeing Byleth’s affronted expression. “It is standard procedure that we keep a profile on all faculty within the monastery. You may recall you were given student profiles as well, during the start of the year.”

Byleth nodded.

“Professor Hanneman had the courtesy to lend me his records. From my understanding, he had already conducted his own research regarding your past.” Seteth continued. “Though regrettably, he never did ascertain your age.”

“Twenty-one.” Byleth clarified, forgetting to consider the five years that had passed.

“Woah...really?” Raphael asked, wide-eyed.

“I knew you were young for a professor, but I always thought you were a bit older than me...” Ignatz mumbled.

_ “Twenty-one?!”  _ Hilda exclaimed. “That makes you almost as young as  _ Lysithea!” _

Byleth frowned in confusion. According to Jeralt's diary, wasn't he supposed to be older than the students?

Claude recognized the error immediately but, instead of correcting him, he merely placed his hand on his chin in thought. Teach did say he was sleeping all this time, didn’t he? And from the looks of it, he hadn’t aged a day since then. Curious...

“I suppose that makes sense.” Leonie nodded. “Captain Jeralt did say you were born several years after he left the monastery.”

“Then I guess that would make us his older siblings!” Alois boomed cheerfully.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Leonie laughed. “I mean Jeralt and I were close, but I did grow up with my own father. Still...I always wanted a little brother.”

Leonie ruffled Byleth’s hair teasingly at this.

“Drop the ‘sibling’ act,” Byleth muttered with mild annoyance, causing several of the students and knights to laugh in response.

Lysithea squinted at Byleth suspiciously from the top of her book. She, like everyone else, had been delighted to see their professor once again. But looking at the situation now, there was something very...odd...about the professor. 

It was as though nothing had changed. Five years had passed, yet he looked  _ exactly  _ the way she remembered him! The same height, the same weight, the same outfit, no stubble or beard, and not a single hair out of place.

And on top of that, he claimed to be the same age he had been all those years ago. It was easy to simply write this off as the professor’s typical oddness. Lysithea never considered herself to be a normal person either, but even compared to her, the professor was always endearingly unusual. However...there was another possibility. A much more sinister reason for this strangeness.

...What if the man sitting before her wasn’t the professor at all? But an imposter, just like Tomas and Monica? If this was just a disguise, that would explain why the ‘professor’ hadn’t aged...and why he still believed himself to be twenty-one. 

Of course, It was also possible that Lysithea was being paranoid for thinking this. Perhaps the reason she was being so cautious was because she couldn't bear the idea of losing her professor again. But even if she was likely in the wrong, Lysithea couldn’t afford to let her guard down.

“Where is Hanneman?” Byleth asked.

“I suspect Professor Hanneman is in the Empire.” Seteth sighed. “The same is likely true for Professor Manuela. They were imperial citizens, after all.”

“Are they working for Edelgard?” Byleth frowned.

“I cannot be certain, but it is probable,” Seteth replied. “Edelgard presents many new avenues for Professor Hanneman to continue his research. Particularly when it comes to the application of Demonic Beasts.”

Flayn and Lysithea bristled at the mention of these creatures.

“All the more reason to fight the Empire.” Claude said, looking directly at Byleth.

Byleth chose not to address this. He knew what Claude was doing.

“And how goes the search for Rhea?” Byleth asked.

“Uneventful,” Shamir said shortly.

“You can say that again.” Catherine snapped. “Five years of searching and not a  _ single  _ lead!”

“Nothing at all?” Byleth inquired with a frown.

“Because of the current war climate, our search has, regrettably, been limited,” Seteth informed him. “Exploring Kingdom territory is difficult and conducting our search within the Empire is nearly impossible.”

“Which is why this war needs to end,” Claude insisted.

“It would be easier if we negotiated with Edelgard,” Byleth suggested.

In a rare moment of agitation, Claude briefly lost his composure at these words. His easy-going smile slipped from his face, and was replaced with a look of pure shock and terror. He understood that Rhea was Teach’s priority right now, but he never expected that he'd be  _ this  _ opposed to fighting the war. And Claude wasn’t the only one...

“Are you being serious?!” Catherine scolded. “It’s because of her that Lady Rhea’s gone missing! I ought to cut her down.”

“Is killing Edelgard more important than finding Rhea?” Byleth asked.

“I...urgh, you may have a point.” Catherine sighed.

“Do you truly believe that woman can be reasoned with?” Seteth frowned.

“I may be able to reason with her,” Byleth suggested. “It’s possible that she already knows where Rhea is.”

“Hm, that is true...” Alois considered.

“Wait, but Edelgard is at  _ war _ with the Church,” Hilda reminded him. “Why would she help you find Rhea?”

“The Church lost the war when Garreg Mach fell,” Byleth explained. “Having the Archbishop formally submit to her would be an ideological victory for Edelgard.”

“And what about the rest of Fodlan, Teach?” Claude asked, his usual fake smile and lighthearted demeanor returning.

“The Alliance has stayed out of the war. If we can come to terms with Edelgard, there would be no need for her to invade.” Byleth responded.

“If we could reach an agreement, so much bloodshed could be avoided...” Ignatz agreed with a nod.

“And if that happened, then I wouldn’t need to worry about my little sis,” Raphael added.

“Hmmm...” Lorenz hummed into the back of his hand, frowning slightly. “It would place us in a compromising position, but with the current division between the Five Great Lords, the Alliance is in no state to engage in warfare...” 

“I suppose it’s worth considering, but there’s no guarantee Edelgard will listen to reason,” Claude reminded everyone. “For the time being, it's best we continue repairing the monastery and assume war with the Empire is inevitable”

Claude’s voice was lighthearted and calm, and he was giving his usual striking fake grin, but Byleth could tell he wasn’t happy. Far from it. In fact, this was the angriest Byleth had ever seen him. Claude was  _ infuriated. _

Claude had planned for this reunion for some time. Years of preparation, years of scheming, everything hinging on Teach’s return. Yes, Claude considered the possibility that finding Rhea might be a priority, but he was certain Teach would see the reason in his words. That, as a professor, he would feel obligated to lead his students.

But Claude had never anticipated that Teach would actually start convincing the other Golden Deer  _ not _ to fight. Claude had admitted, in front of everyone, that without Teach, his schemes were nothing. And the annoying thing was...he had been telling the truth. If Teach didn’t join their cause, it was hopeless. The others would lose morale. They may even leave. Clearly he had misread the situation and now all of his hopes...all of his dreams...they were turning to ash.

“It may be inevitable,” Byleth admitted. “But if there's a path where my students aren't forced to fight each other, I will take it.”

“There’s your sentimental side showing again,” Claude said with a tone of fake endearment that masked the coldness behind his words.

Lysithea seemed rather displeased as well. She was giving Byleth a look that he didn’t recognize. Was it...disappointment that he was seeing? That would be a first. Come to think of it, she had been rather standoffish this whole time, never speaking to him once. Byleth couldn't help but wonder if he had done something to upset her.

“Anyway, thank you for the food,” Byleth said, finishing his meal. “It’s Saint Cichol day, right? We should get back to work.”

“Indeed.” Seteth nodded in approval. “The cathedral is in particularly poor condition, but with enough effort, it may well be suitable enough for today’s sermon.”

“We should get to it as well.” Alois added. “Farewell then, Professor. Ah, wait, no, not ‘Professor’. What I meant to say was...‘Goodbye...leth’.”

Alois chuckled in amusement while Shamir let out a long sigh. Byleth shook his head disapprovingly at this particularly bad pun and made his way to the cathedral.

* * *

Later in the evening, after a day of working on the cathedral, Byleth made his way back to his office...or more accurately, his quarters, since he was no longer a professor. Opening the door revealed that his usually tidy room was now a mess. Bandits had ransacked the unattended monastery and it only made sense that they would raid the noble students quarters.

It wasn’t the first time Byleth had seen his room this way, since this was his third night at the monastery after all. Until now he never had a chance to clean things up. Most of the mess consisted of papers still ungraded due to Edelgard’s surprise declaration of war...these were obviously no longer of any use and could be thrown away.

Being only a humble professor, Byleth didn't possess many valuables for the bandits to steal, though they did unfortunately take the trophy the Golden Deer had won during the Battle of the Eagle and Lion. Byleth was grateful that they had, at least, missed the hiding spot where he stored his mother’s ring, which was still safely where it belonged.

Byleth began picking up the papers. It had been five years since he assigned them, but in his mind, they were only a couple weeks old. Even so, he couldn’t help but reminisce over them. The way Marianne treated animals like human soldiers, Claude’s cheeky comments, Lorenz focus on a ‘chivalrous victory’ and Lysithea’s brilliant responses. Speaking of which, Byleth suddenly felt a presence behind him...and sure enough—

“We’re alone now...” Lysithea said quietly.

“We are,” Byleth confirmed, his back to her. “Everyone else is attending Seteth’s sermon.”

Byleth set the papers on his desk, but when he turned to face Lysithea, he saw that Thyrsus was being held a mere few inches away from his face, cackling with dark energy. Byleth blinked, much more surprised than his expressionless face let on, but made no other response.

“I would have done this earlier, but I didn’t want to make a scene...” Lysithea murmured.

“What are you doing?” Byleth asked nonchalantly.

Lysithea let out a sigh, though it was hard to tell if this was nervousness or relief.

“Your calm demeanor is convincing, but I must remain cautious. I'm sorry but...Professor, lead the way to Hanneman’s office,” Lysithea requested.

“Why?”

“I need to ensure that you’re not an imposter,” Lysithea explained. “We must verify that you possess the Crest of Flames.”

It took Byleth a moment to realize what she was talking about, when suddenly it clicked. 

...Lysithea thought he was another 'Monica'. Or she was considering the possibility, at least. How like her to be so guarded and prudent, although now that Byleth thought about it, perhaps it was a bit surprising that nobody else had even considered the idea.

“There’s no need,” Byleth pointed out. “I have the Sword of the Creator—”

“Hand it over,” Lysithea ordered. “It could be a replica, just like Caspar’s Thunderbrand. Or maybe...”

She paused, but Byleth understood. Lysithea was worried that an 'imposter' might have taken it from his corpse. She didn’t  _ really  _ believe he was a fake, but she had to be careful, which meant he needed to be disarmed.

“I understand,” Byleth nodded, slowly moving his hand to the sword and holding it blade down as he unsheathed it. “But it must remain here. You can’t—”

“Hand it over,” Lysithea repeated.

Byleth sighed. She was being too cautious and wasn’t going to take ‘no’ for an answer. Holding the blade to the side, he reluctantly offered Lysithea the sword hilt. Lyisthea reached out and—

“GAH!”

Just as it had happened five years ago, Lysithea fell face first onto the ground upon grabbing the hilt, dropping Thyrsus in the process. 

Lysithea knew a Heroes Relic couldn't be properly wielded without a compatible Crest, but after all these years, she had forgotten that, unlike other relics, the Sword of the Creator became very heavy and refused to be wielded by anyone who didn't bear the Crest of Flames.

“G-Get it off me!” Lysithea cried as the hilt crushed her palm.

Byleth sighed and shook his head before effortlessly removing the sword and placing it back into its scabbard.

“Are you OK?” Byleth asked, holding out his hand, again just as it had happened all those years ago.

“I think so,” Lysithea mumbled, massaging her palm a bit before accepting. “I just...”

Lysithea paused, staring at the professor intently. It  _ was  _ Byleth. The fact that he could lift the Sword of the Creator meant...her professor truly had returned to them.

“Professor...” Lysithea whispered softly, hesitating for a moment before suddenly tackling him with full force, knocking him against the wall.

“Oof!” Byleth grunted, taken aback by the sudden gesture.

After all this time, Byleth was starting to get accustomed to the feeling of being embraced. However, until now, he hadn’t come to realize just how much taller Lysithea had grown in five years. 

During her school years, Lysithea could only reach his chest, but now he was receiving a face full of fluffy white hair and was suddenly overwhelmed by a sweet intoxicating scent that filled his nostrils.

L-Lysithea...” Byleth grunted, his arms stuck to his sides as she squeezed him with all her might.

Until now, Lysithea had mixed feelings about seeing the professor again. Too scared to blindly accept he was alive, hurt that he never fulfilled his promise, and felt abandoned again when he voiced his opposition to fighting the Empire. 

But, in this moment, none of that mattered. All that mattered to Lysithea right now was that the professor  _ was  _ alive and this made her happy beyond description.

“I’m sorry for doubting you...” Lysithea mumbled, easing her grip and looking up at him.

Byleth shook his head and sat down on the bed, patting the space next to him.

“I disappeared for a long time. The same thing happened to Monica and Tomas,” Byleth said, as Lysithea sat next to him. “You were right to worry. Investigating me was a prudent decision.”

“That  _ did  _ make me worry.” Lysithea sighed. “However, I noticed that your appearance...well...”

“It looks suspicious, doesn’t it?” Byleth said, glancing at his and Lysithea’s reflections in the mirror.

It was a strange sight; an older Lysithea sitting next to a completely unchanged Byleth.

Lysithea nodded in agreement but remained quiet.

“Ask your questions,” Byleth insisted gently. He knew she must have many of them.

Lysithea nodded again, but she hesitated, unsure of where to start. ‘Why did you go back on your promise?’, ‘Why haven’t you aged at all?’, ‘What have you been doing all this time?’, ‘Why are you so focused on finding Rhea?’, ‘Why won’t you help us fight Edelgard?’, ‘Why are you  _ abandoning  _ your students again?!’ 

Lysithea sighed. No. That last one was uncalled for, not to mention unfair to the professor. It was the sort of thing she might have asked when she was younger, but not anymore. She had to control her emotions. Control.

“...Where were you?” Lysithea asked softly.

It was a fair question and a reasonable start. It was something Lysithea deserved to know. But despite keeping her emotions in check and speaking at a level volume, there was no denying the amount of hurt in her voice when she spoke these words.

Byleth winced. What she was  _ really _ asking was why he hadn’t kept his promise. That said, it was clear that Lysithea had matured significantly since he last saw her. She was showing a lot more restraint than she would have five years ago. He would have felt proud of her were he not feeling so guilty instead.

“Sleeping.”

He didn’t know how else to say it. Lysithea turned to face him and frowned, but didn’t show any signs of anger. She knew him well enough to know he wasn’t toying with her. The professor had a sense of humor, but unlike Claude he knew there was a time and place for it. He was being serious.

“All this time?” Lysithea questioned.

“All this time,” Byleth repeated, pleased that she seemed to believe him.

Lysithea sighed. This wasn’t a satisfying answer, in fact it was almost insulting. As if  _ sleeping  _ was more important than his promise—it was the sort of thing Linhardt might have said. But Lysithea was self-aware enough to know that this wasn’t rational thinking and knew that the professor wouldn’t needlessly hide details. Still...

“Is that really all you have to tell me?” Lysithea asked, feeling a bit dejected.

“I don’t know much else,” Byleth admitted.

Lysithea stared intently at him. Clearly, wanting any details he could provide.

“During the Battle of Garreg Mach, I was knocked into a chasm,” Byleth explained “After that, I woke up at the base of the monastery. A villager told me it was the eve Millennium Festival, so I made my way back.”

“That’s certainly convenient,” Lysithea said, though her voice wasn’t one of accusation, but intrigue. “This hibernation you experienced must have something to with your connection to the Goddess.”

“You’re probably right.” Byleth agreed.

“Still, it’s hard to imagine your appearance remaining the same after all that time,” Lysithea said thoughtfully. “Is it possible that instead of sleeping...you were sent into the future?”

Byleth blinked in mild surprise. Considering that he never told the students about the Divine Pulse, he was impressed Lysithea had come up with such a shrewd theory.

“That’s an interesting idea. But I  _ did  _ lose consciousness,” Byleth reminded her.

“I suppose that’s true...” Lysithea acknowledged thoughtfully, placing a hand to her chin. “Anyway, you don’t appear to have aged at all. I mean, you look younger than your students, Professor.”

Lysithea giggled at this and Byleth crossed his arms a little defensively.

“You never told me how old you were,” Byleth pointed out.

“I’m turning twenty-one next month,” Lysithea answered with a proud smirk.

“That would make you the youngest between us.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me.”

Byleth paused. He hadn’t meant to upset her.

“...You’ve grown taller,” Byleth remarked, hoping Lysithea would take it as a compliment.

“You’ve noticed, have you?” Lysithea smiled.

“You seem to be taller than Hilda now,” Byleth noted, nodding.

“I am,” Lysithea confirmed with a nod of her own, seeming quite pleased to hear this. “And have you noticed any other changes?”

Byleth nodded again. There certainly was something different about her.

“You look—”

Byleth paused. What was the best way to describe it? More mature? ...But that might give her the false impression he saw her as 'immature' before. Womanly? Maybe not the most appropriate comment. Grown-up?  _ Definitely not. _

“—beautiful.” Byleth decided. 

...Probably the most polite way of phrasing it.

“H-Hey, don’t mess with me, Professor!” Lysithea exclaimed, her face reddening and her shoulders hiking up.

Lysithea found herself caught off guard by this bold statement. She had simply expected him to remark on how grown-up she looked or maybe comment on her new sense of fashion. If the professor had said this to her back in the academy, she might have jumped to some ridiculous conclusion that he was trying to woo her. 

But... No, he was probably just being nice.

“That...wasn’t my intention.” Byleth muttered in confusion.

Byleth raised an eyebrow. Usually he could immediately tell how Lysithea was feeling, but in this case, it was difficult to determine. Her tone was sharp and suggested she was angry...but based on her expression, she seemed rather flattered by his compliment.

“Well... thank you,” Lysithea said, smiling sweetly.

The room went quiet and before long Lysithea’s smile fell as the reality of their situation set upon her again. 

Something was wrong. Byleth didn’t know what Lysithea was thinking, didn't know that she was lamenting that the professor had been absent for five years out of her already shortened life, but he knew something was upsetting her.

Lysithea's ability to so easily share her feelings was a trait Byleth had always admired...and had always been envious of. She was always direct and to the point—unusually blunt for a noble. And she was very expressive. Byleth found that he always had an easy time reading Lysithea, understanding her even during these moments of quiet.

Yes, there was something clearly bothering Lysithea. Most likely, she still felt a little hurt that Byleth hadn’t fulfilled his promise. Whether it was his fault or not, Byleth understood that it was probably still painful for her. And the worst thing about it...was that she probably thought he didn't care.

Byleth glanced at the mirror again. His expressionless reflection stared back at him. If he were to guess based on his own stony demeanor, Byleth would assume he was completely indifferent to the situation. 

Meanwhile, the woman next to him was sitting shoulders hunched, eyes downcast, and head lowered, body language that clearly expressed that she was feeling saddened over something. Byleth wished he had Lysithea’s gift—that he could show her that he  _ did  _ care. That he, too, was saddened by his own failure. That he resented himself for letting her down...

“Whether I look it or not, I want you to know that I deeply regret not fulfilling my promise.”

Byleth sighed. He had hoped that simply  _ stating _ his feelings would help Lysithea understand how truly awful he felt, but even his voice sounded completely emotionless and uncaring...

“I’m well aware,” Lysithea said, turning to him and offering a gentle smile. “I could tell right away, you know. I’m not upset about it or anything, really.”

Byleth looked at her, a bit surprised. Was it really that easy for her to understand how he was feeling? Perhaps she was better at reading his own blank face than Byleth himself was?

“But something is upsetting you,” Byleth asserted.

That much was clear and Lysithea didn’t deny it. She hesitated for a moment, considering her words before speaking again.

“...Professor, don’t you think it’s possible that you awoke when you did because...the goddess had a plan?” Lysithea suggested.

“No,” Byleth said firmly.

He knew where this conversation was headed. Lysithea wanted him to fight the Empire. Wanted to convince him that it was his 'destiny'. It was clear to him that Lysithea had the same misconceptions of Sothis that everyone else did. To them, Sothis was the goddess of Fodlan that the Church always preached about. A benevolent all-knowing deity who had a grand plan for Fodlan and everyone in it. And they believed that Byleth was a chosen hero who was following the path that Sothis had carefully laid out for him. But that’s not who Sothis was and that wasn’t what their relationship had been.

“Surely you don’t think this is just a coincidence, do you?” Lysithea argued.

She couldn’t help but feel as though the professor was being unreasonable and closed minded over this.

“My goal is to find Rhea. That’s all.” Byleth stated.

“Is that the goddess’ plan?”

“It's possible that Sothis awakened me on that day intentionally." Byleth admitted. "But if that's the case, it was for our class reunion and no other reason. The Goddess has no plan.”

If Lysithea wasn’t annoyed with him before, she was now. And Byleth couldn’t really blame her. Now that he said it aloud, he realized he was probably being insensitive towards her beliefs and the Church of Seiros faith. 

But in the end, that was the simple truth of it. Their ‘goddess’ was simply Sothis. No more, no less. She was powerful, but not omnipotent and there was no 'plan'. If anything, she had always pushed for Byleth's independence.

“Why is finding Lady Rhea so important to you?” Lysithea asked in a surprisingly gentle tone, albeit more consciously this time.

Byleth was impressed. Lysithea had definitely gotten a better handle on her emotions. Back at the academy, she would have certainly blown up if anyone else had acted so obtusely around her.

“I need to see her again,” Byleth replied.

“Were you two really that close?” Lysithea asked, with a perched eyebrow.

Byleth considered her for a moment. That was a difficult question to answer. Rhea was an older woman who had always shown concern for him, who doted on him, and who acted as his mentor. It was Rhea who had first taught Byleth white magic. 

In addition to this, Rhea had even instructed Byleth in combat. At this point, Byleth's combat style was derived just as much from Rhea's as it was Jeralt's .In a sense...she was like a mother figure to him.

However, to call their relationship ‘warm’ or ‘endearing’ wouldn’t be accurate. Rhea was one of the very few people who truly unnerved Byleth. Despite the kindness she directed towards him, Byleth couldn’t help but feel nervous in her presence. But perhaps that was normal? Byleth recalled that several students expressed a sense of fear towards their own mothers. 

...In any case, there was something about Rhea that was unnatural. 

“I have questions for her,” Byleth deflected, shaking his head.

Lysithea frowned sympathetically. She remembered now that Claude once said that Rhea was connected to the professor's...unusual circumstances. And if that was the case, it was understandable why he would be so invested in her safety.

“This is about your Crest, isn’t it?” Lysithea asked.

Byleth nodded.

“I want to know where my Crest came from, who my mother was and if...” Byleth hesitated. A part of him still wanted to know if he was truly human.

“You probably want to know why you’re connected to the Goddess, don’t you?”

“I do.”

“I understand why that's important," Lysithea assured him comfortingly. "But surely you could assist us while locating Lady Rhea, couldn’t you?”

Byleth frowned. Lysithea was really set in fighting Edelgard wasn’t she? Why was that?

“Lysithea... I have a question for you.”

“Huh? What is it, Professor?” Lysithea asked, wide-eyed.

“Why are you so determined to fight the Empire?”

Lysithea stared at him. What sort of question was that? 

Why was she so determined to fight the Empire? The nation that had declared war on Fodlan? That was a threat to the Alliance's sovereignty? That conducted unspeakable experiments on her and the other Ordelia children? The people who killed the famed Blade Breaker? Did the professor truly not understand?

“That’s an odd question to ask.” Lysithea said, blinking in surprise. “I would think the answer is rather obvious, isn’t it?”

“Edelgard wants to dismantle the current aristrocracy and create a world where Crests have no value,” Byleth reminded her.

“I am well aware!” Lysithea snapped somewhat defensively.  _ “I’m  _ not the one who has been asleep for the last five years!”

Byleth raised an eyebrow. It was unusual for Lysithea to raise her voice around him. Noticing his pause, Lysithea’s tightened face relaxed into one of apology and her hand rose to her lips to compose herself.

“I...I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you...” Lysithea sighed apologetically. “With all my talk against Crests, it makes sense to think that I’d support Edelgard. But that’s simply not the case.”

“You never answered my question.” Byleth pointed out.

“It’s like I said, the answer is obvious isn’t it? I’m from the Leicester Alliance, Professor.”

“You have no loyalty to the Alliance.”

“Excuse me?!” Lysithea huffed indignantly, with little reaction from Byleth.

“You’re loyal to your friends and parents,” Byleth corrected himself. “But you always told me the Alliance was nothing more than a gaggle of Crest-obsessed aristocrats who only cared for their own petty self interests.”

Lysithea blinked in surprise. She didn’t remember saying that specifically, but it did sound like the sort of thing she might have said. Probably during tea...and it was certainly something she believed.

Yes, the Alliance nobles did only care for themselves. That was made clear when they abandoned her family and left them in the clutches of the Empire.

“I never realized you paid that much attention to me,” Lysithea mumbled awkwardly.

“You’re interesting to talk to.”

“D-Don’t try to flatter me, Professor. I’m still upset, you know!” Lysithea shot slightly, blushing in spite of herself.

“Why?” Byleth asked rather simply, tilting his head.

“I...” Lysithea paused.

Why indeed? 

Well...

She certainly didn’t appreciate the professor trying to talk her out of fighting the Empire. He didn’t understand. Didn’t know what the Empire did, didn't know why she could never submit to them again. But then...it was  _ her  _ fault that the professor was so clueless. She never did open up about her past...to anyone.

More annoying was the fact that...Byleth was right in a way. Edelgard's goals were aligned with Lysithea's. The Emperor  _ did  _ seek to overthrow the current system of nobility and create a world without Crests. Lysithea couldn't roll over and let the Empire win, nor did she trust Edelgard to create such a world. ...But in a way, fighting Edelgard was fighting against her own values.

And even more annoying than  _ that _ ...was how endeared she was by the professor right now. Lysithea was used to people just shutting up and agreeing with her, but instead Byleth was treating her like an adult woman. He was challenging her, not coddling her. And, despite his political ignorance, he was doing a pretty good job at it too. 

_ Ugh! _ Lysithea thought she had moved on after all these years, but the professor was making her fall for him all over again...

...What upset her the most, however, was that the professor wasn’t taking their side. Feelings of abandonment were resurfacing. Even though Lysithea knew better, it truly felt as though the professor was leaving her when she needed him most. It was almost...almost as though...

“Professor, are you hoping we  _ surrender  _ to the Empire?” Lysithea questioned sharply, her frown turning deeper.

“I don’t want to see my students get killed. And I want the war to end,” Byleth answered somewhat tacitly. “Surrendering only means replacing the Alliance’s ruling system with Edelgard’s.”

“But what about your father? And all those people who were turned into Demonic Beasts?”

Bristling somewhat at her words, Byleth considered them for a moment before responding. Although all evidence suggested that Edelgard was an involved party in Jeralt’s death, Byleth couldn’t help but feel that Monica had acted on her own. 

The Flame Emperor—or rather Edelgard—had clearly wanted to recruit him to her side, so it wouldn’t make sense for her to plot Jeralt's death. ...Or perhaps Byleth was just being sentimental and didn’t want to believe Edelgard had betrayed him so heinously?

“If the war ends, there will be no need for Demonic Beasts,” Byleth responded, not addressing the former issue; his averted eyes betrayed his composed tone. “Their discontinuation could be addressed in the terms of surrender.”

Much to her annoyance, Lysithea found herself agreeing with him again. If the Alliance did surrender, their current ruling system would be replaced by one that didn’t focus so heavily on Crests. There would be no need to create Demonic Beasts, and the bloodshed would stop...which meant her parents would be safe. But still...

“Professor, if you feel so strongly about this, then why did you fight at all during the Battle of Garreg Mach?” Lysithea asked, folding her arms.

Byleth paused for a moment in recollection before responding.

“Because Rhea would have never surrendered. Because I didn’t want to see the monastery destroyed. Because...you were in danger. I wanted to protect you.”

Byleth sighed. It was also because, back then, he had never truly  _ lost _ a battle. He sincerely believed that, with the Sword of the Creator, he could always cut a path to victory for his students. It was only in defeat that Byleth finally dropped this arrogant notion.

“Well then you should know that I don’t intend to surrender either then!” Lysithea exclaimed.

“I still don’t understand why you're so determined to fight.” Byleth frowned.

“Because...the Empire took everything from me.” Lysithea finally admitted. “They took my home, my dignity, my sense of security, they took my family, they took—”

Byleth stared wide eyed as Lysithea drew a shaky breath.

“...For the last five years, I thought they had taken you away too, Professor,” Lysithea mumbled sadly, staring determinedly into Byleth’s eyes.

And even if they hadn't, they had still ruined any chance she had of living out a peaceful, albeit short life with her professor.

By the time Lysithea enrolled in the academy, she had ten years left in this world. It wasn’t much, but she would have been content to spend those ten years with the professor—even if it was just as friends. But because of the Empire, he had gone missing for five years. And the five years she had remaining with him...would be spent in war.

“So, your goal is revenge,” Byleth reiterated.

Lysithea winced. It sounded so  _ petty  _ when he worded it like that but—

She nodded.

“Yes.” 

It was more than that, though. Currently the Empire was conducting more Crest experiments, subjugating innocent people to the same horrible conditions Lysithea had lived through, and turning others into Demonic Beasts. 

It didn’t matter if Edelgard opposed the aristocracy or the Crests, Lysithea refused to submit to anyone who would allow these abominable experiments to continue!

“...Then I must fight as well,” Byleth decided.

Lysithea looked up to him in surprise.

“You wi—you ‘must’?”

“You've left me no other choice,” Byleth conceded.

Lysithea’s brow pinched and she winced slightly, confusion flashing in her eyes for a moment.

“You aided me in avenging my father,” Byleth continued. “I realize now that I can’t talk you out of fighting the Empire. All I can do is stand by your side and watch over you.”

“Professor, I... Thank you.” Lysithea said softly, subconsciously scooting closer to him.

There was a moment of quiet before Byleth spoke again.

“Are you not concerned? That fighting against Edelgard is fighting in favor of the Crest based nobility system?”

“Not at all, really.” Lysithea shook her head. “When the Empire falls, a new ruling system will need to be put in place. I suppose it will be up to Claude to handle that, but...”

“Yes?”

“...Well, knowing him, I’m sure he’s bound to turn to  _ you  _ for help, Professor.”

Byleth noticed something... pleading in Lysithea’s gentle tone.

“What are you suggesting?”

“Well, I was hoping that...when this is all over, maybe you could help create a new system? One where people aren’t defined by their Crests.”

“You’re more suited to that than I am,” Byleth resisted, surprised at Lysithea’s request.

“You have a point...” Lysithea laughed. “Still, though, if something were to happen...if I were to die in this war—”

“I’m not letting any of you die,” Byleth said, firmly gripping her shoulder.

“I-I...um...” Lysithea blushed, faltering slightly under the professor’s presence and the weight of his hand on her bare shoulder. “If something  _ were  _ to happen though... I could count on you, right, Professor?”

Byleth grimaced. He didn’t even want to consider that possibility. But nevertheless, he nodded.

“Is that a promise?” Lysithea pressed.

At the moment, Byleth didn't feel up to making any promises. Especially after failing Lysithea in the last promise he made to her. ...Yet somehow, he always found himself weak to Lysithea’s sad expression. Byleth just couldn’t say ‘no’ to that pleading face.

His sigh was soft and reluctant.

“Yes... Yes, I promise.”


	16. The Alliance Roundtable (Verdant Wind: 4/1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Upon taking the Great Bridge of Myrddin, Byleth and the others return to the Alliance to discuss the proposition of war with the Empire with the Five Great Lords of the Alliance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, it's been awhile. Hiatus is officially over. I do plan to reference elements of Cindered Shadows into the story (such as Balthus and Abyss), but I don't plan to incorporate it too heavily. So for those who haven't played the DLC, you don't need to worry too much about spoilers going forward.
> 
> Thankfully nothing in the DLC contradicts what I put into the story, so no need to change anything. In fact, Lysithea's support correction and her B support with Balthus seem to confirm my belief that TWSITD kept her imprisoned for many years of her life, so....woo, go me guessing correctly.

**Verdant Wind**

**Blood of the Eagle and Lion**

**Day 1 of the Great Tree Moon**

It was the first day of Imperial Year 1186. Until now, the Knights of Seiros and the Leicester Alliance had only been preparing for what was to come. But this new year would mark the official beginning of their fight against the Empire.

Byleth sighed, staring at the starry night sky from a balcony at Castle Riegan. Claude had brought him here to assist in the negotiation with the Five Great Lords of the Alliance. Meanwhile the other students were back at their respective homes, spreading the news that the Great Bridge of Myrddin had been captured. Byleth looked up into the night sky, wondering what they were up to now.

Lorenz had likely endured a lecture from Count Gloucester for going behind his back. Ignatz would have gone to Gloucester territory as well, to tell his family the news...but knowing Ignatz, Byleth suspected he would return to the Great Bridge of Myrddin by tomorrow to marvel at its craftsmanship. Or maybe he would visit Raphael’s family first, to let them know how Raphael was doing? 

Thinking on it, Leonie was from Gloucester territory too, wasn’t she? She would be back in her small village, spreading the news as well. Byleth recalled that Leonie once mentioned she owed her village a debt. If she had been working with Jeralt's group as a mercenary all this time, surely she had enough money to repay said debt...assuming she didn't pick up Jeralt's reckless drinking habit.

As for Marianne, she was probably being interrogated by Margrave Edmund. No doubt he was trying to gather as much information on the situation as he could. Based on what Marianne had told Byleth, her adoptive father would likely be plotting a way to take advantage of the Alliance’s new position to line his pockets with gold. War was the easiest way to make money after all.

Byleth couldn't imagine Balthus returning to his family, so more likely than not he had ventured to Goneril territory with Hilda. While Hilda tried to take things easy, Balthus was probably regalling Holst with stories of his sister's exploits. And perhaps Holst would be singing her praises for taking the bridge.

_ “Just don’t raise your expectations too much, OK?”  _ Hilda would say.

Byleth gave a small smile at the thought.

Lysithea would be back in Ordelia territory, no doubt overjoyed at the opportunity to see her parents again. Based on how Lysithea described her relationship with them, her parents were probably doting on her and filling her with sweets while Lysithea tried to focus on the situation and how to move forward.

Byleth sighed and stared up at the crescent moon. He knew Lysithea well. She wasn't the type to be complacent in victory. Despite the hour, she was probably still wide awake. Most likely strategizing their next move. Or maybe planning for tomorrow's roundtable conference. Or reflecting on the war. ...Or...maybe she was gazing at the same moon as Byleth and thinking about him too?

He could feel a presence behind him...

“I thought you might be awake.” Claude sighed, placing a cup of tea on top of the balcony’s railing near his professor.

Byleth glanced at the tea without comment.

“Drink up.” Claude encouraged. “It’s a special recipe my grandma used to make back home to help me fall asleep. You’ll want to be rested and energized for the meeting tomorrow.”

Byleth nodded and took a small sip of the piping hot tea. It tasted foreign...

“So, what are you doing out here, Teach?” Claude asked, leaning against the railing.

“Thinking about her.” Byleth muttered vaguely, more to himself than Claude.

“Hm? Her? You mean Edelgard?”

“...Yes.” Byleth confirmed after a slight pause.

This was technically true. Edelgard had been on Byleth’s mind as of late. The closer they came to striking back against the Empire, the closer they came to their inevitable showdown with Edelgard. In the meantime, Byleth had been mentally bracing himself for this moment.

Byleth had joined this war out of necessity—recognizing that it was the only way he could protect his students. And at first he hadn't resented Edelgard for starting it. He sympathized with her motives and understood why she felt Fodlan needed to be united without the church’s presence. But that was then...

Now? Now Byleth had two dead students on his hands. Ashe and Ferdinand.

Byleth had been the one to kill Ashe. Naively, Byleth had wanted to avoid fighting. He had even ordered Hilda to stand down so that he might speak to Ashe. Hilda had obeyed him without question, and it ended up nearly costing her life. Ashe had taken advantage of the situation and shot Hilda directly in the throat.

After using the Divine Pulse, Byleth had jumped in front of the arrow meant for Hilda, taking a hit in the shoulder, and stabbing Ashe in the chest with the Sword of the Creator before he could draw another arrow.

_ “I know this is it, but...I don't want to die...” _

Those were Ashe’s last words as Byleth took his life. He would never forget the twisted look of anguish on his former student’s face. That look of betrayal Ashe gave as his professor turned on him. 

When Hilda discovered Byleth’s injury, she had berated him for acting so recklessly. He deserved it. And that’s why, when Lorenz had killed Ferdinand on the Great Bridge of Myrddin, Byleth had accepted this result. He couldn’t afford to waste the Divine Pulse on naïve idealism.

Two students had been murdered. Byleth had killed one and had been forced to watch one of his Golden Deer kill the other.

_ “I wouldn't want to become the type of person who feels nothing when someone dies.” _

That’s what Leonie had said. And all his life, that’s exactly the type of person Byleth had been. In his mercenary days, he killed without pity or remorse. When he cut people down, it was no different than cutting a vegetable. 

But now? Now he felt sick to his stomach. And he couldn’t help but blame Edelgard for all this—and why wouldn’t he blame her?  _ She  _ had started this war, and it was because of  _ her  _ that those students were dead.

“We’ll have to fight her at some point.” Claude sighed.

“Yes...” Byleth nodded, continuing to sip his tea.

Claude stared at Byleth silently. It was hard to tell what was going on in his professor's head at the moment. Claude knew that Teach and Edelgard had been friends back at the academy, but he was starting to suspect and worry that Teach wouldn't be willing to kill her when the time came. 

...The professor certainly wasn't the ruthless man he used to be.

“One step at a time though, eh Teach?” Claude smiled. “First things first, we’re going to need the cooperation of these stubborn lords.”

“It only takes three votes to proceed, right?” Byleth asked.

“Technically speaking that would be a majority vote, yes.” Claude nodded. “However, to truly bolster our forces, we’re going to need cooperation from  _ all  _ the lords. That’s where you come in, Teach.”

“You should have brought Seteth.”

“Seteth?” Claude raised an eyebrow. “Teach, Rhea entrusted the church to  _ you. _ All things considered,  _ you’re  _ the standing Archbishop.”

“Seteth was her advisor. He’s more recognizable and better suited towards diplomacy.” Byleth said, shaking his head in disagreement.

“All the more reason to bring you here.” Claude smirked. “You’re the leader of this army and this is a chance to broaden your skills.”

Byleth frowned. No he damn well  _ wasn’t  _ the leader of this army. This was Claude’s army. Fighting the Empire was Claude’s idea. All of this was  _ Claude’s  _ scheme, and Byleth was being dragged into it all.

“I’m not a noble. I have no need to learn this.” Byleth rebutted.

“Oh? And if Edelgard were to consider surrendering, who do you think she would speak to?” Claude asked.

Nobody. That was the only right answer. Byleth couldn’t imagine Edelgard ever admitting defeat, no matter how dire the situation got. However...

“I see your point.” Byleth sighed.

...he couldn’t bring himself to completely give up on the idea either.

“I knew you would.” Claude smiled. “But back to the Alliance. I don’t think we’ll have much trouble getting Count Gloucester to join our side, now that the Great Bridge of Myrddin is under our control, but...don’t expect smooth sailing, Teach.”

“What do you mean?”

“Even if he’s willing to join, I doubt the count will be too pleased with us going behind his back. And there’s the other lords to consider as well.”

“I thought you said Count Gloucester’s cooperation would unify the Alliance?”

“That’s...more or less true.” Claude said sheepishly.

Byleth frowned.

“However even under a unified Alliance, there's no guarantee everyone will cooperate.” Claude explained. “It’s likely that the other lords will fight over contributions. That’s what usually happens anyway.”

“What are these other lords like?” Byleth asked.

It was hard to imagine his students' families being so...difficult.

“Besides me, you have Duke Goneril, Count Gloucester, Count Ordelia, and Margrave Edmund.” Claude listed off. “Duke Goneril—Holst—is Hilda’s brother. I’m sure you’ve heard all about him.”

“I wasn’t aware he was the current duke.”

“He’s fairly young, yes, but the former Duke Goneril was forced to step down due to age and injuries. Not too uncommon for a military house.”

“Didn’t you say he’s anti-imperial?”

“I did.” Claude nodded. “He’s on our side. My only concern is how many troops he will be able to spare, considering House Goneril's obligation to protect Fodlan’s Locket.”

“Wouldn’t it be best if we negotiated peace with the Almyrans?” Byleth suggested.

For some reason Claude gave a smile of genuine amusement.

“Even if I did, there’s no guarantee they would keep their word. Unfortunately, history doesn't favor the Almyrans when it comes to honoring their agreements.” Claude sighed.

“What about the other lords?”

“Well there’s Margrave Edmund who, until recently, was only a minor lord. His real strength comes from his business dealings. He’s easily the wealthiest man in the Alliance if not all of Fodlan. However he's a bit lacking when it comes to military strength.”

“We can press him for funds instead of troops.” Byleth suggested.

“That’s generally how these things work out.” Claude nodded. “But knowing him, he’ll try to use this war as a business opportunity. If he supports us, there will almost certainly be strings attached.”

“You can’t just force the others to provide support?”

“No.” Claude muttered darkly. “Getting a majority vote only grants me the right to direct my own troops against the Empire. Anything else requires the cooperation of the other lords, who only serve their own interests.”

“What a bureaucratic mess...” Byleth muttered, shaking his head.

“You’ve been spending too much time with Lysithea.” Claude laughed.

“I suppose we can't count on Count Gloucester's cooperation either?”

“Oh, he’ll cooperate.” Claude assured him. “We haven’t really left him a choice.”

“What do you mean?”

“From the Empire’s perspective, Count Gloucester betrayed them by allowing us to attack the bridge. There’s no going back.” Claude explained. “And the count’s an opportunist, which means he’s bound to offer as much support as possible.”

“An opportunist?” Byleth frowned.

“He wants history to remember him as a revolutionary leader in the fight against the Empire.”

“The count sounds like Lorenz...”

“He is but...well you’ll see for yourself.” Claude sighed.

“But we can count on his support?”

“Definitely. If anything, I’m more worried that he will try to usurp the role of commander. But that’s why I brought you here, Teach.”

Claude smiled at him, but Byleth just grimaced. He knew this wasn’t true. He wasn't here to 'support' Claude, he was here to be his mascot. 

Ever since he joined Claude’s fight against the Empire, Byleth had been thrust into a leadership position. Whether it was being pushed into political positions he wasn’t qualified for or using the Crest of Flames as the symbol of their army, Claude was doing everything he could to make Byleth the face of the resistance.

“You’re lying.” Byleth bluntly accused, though this only seemed to amuse Claude.

“How dare you, Teach!” Claude exclaimed in mock indignation. “I’ll have you know that I  _ never  _ lie.”

Byleth didn’t know what was more annoying. Claude’s mischievously playful smirk or the fact that he found himself unable to cite an instance where he had caught Claude lying. Perhaps it was more accurate to suggest that Claude simply didn’t always tell the truth.

“So that leaves Count Ordelia.” Byleth said, ignoring Claude’s quip. “You said he’s also imperial aligned.”

“That I did.” Claude nodded. “He’s uh...well he may prove to be a bit difficult.”

“Is that so?”

Byleth was a bit surprised to hear this. Lysithea always spoke of her parents fondly, and based on how Balthus described them, one would think they were the kindest nobles in all of Fodlan.

“Don’t get me wrong, he’s not as difficult as Lorenz’s father.” Claude clarified. “And whether she knows it or not, Lysithea has the count wrapped around her little finger. But he can be a bit...untrusting.”

“How so?”

“Let’s just say he’s keenly aware that the other lords are only concerned for their own self interests.” Claude sighed. “I don’t know the full story, but apparently House Ordelia suffered at the hands of the Empire years ago and none of the other lords lifted a finger to help them.”

"Not even House Riegan?"

"As far as I can tell...no." Claude admitted. "But don't worry, Teach, I have a plan for all of this."

“What’s the plan, then?” Byleth asked.

"I could tell you, but then what would the fun be in that?" Claude smirked. "I will say that step one is getting some sleep so we can attend the roundtable conference in good spirits. Come on, let's get some shut-eye."

Byleth nodded, knowing he couldn't convince Claude to divulge any further, and quickly drank the rest of his tea, before following Claude back inside.

* * *

“Ah, there you are, Professor,” Judith greeted pleasantly, entering the study room where Byleth was reading a book on Almyran sword techniques. “The Alliance lords have assembled and Claude has asked me to escort you to the meeting room.”

Byleth looked up to Judith, who had temporarily left her post at the Great Bridge of Myrddin to assist them in negotiations, before nodding and following after her.

“I take it you’re wondering why you weren’t called to meet the others before the conference?” Judith asked.

Byleth shook his head.

“Claude probably wants to make a big entrance with my arrival.”

“Ha! You know him well.” Judith laughed as they made their way down a flight of stairs. “Yes, I have a feeling that’s the case. Normally I would advise that you be careful. That boy is quick to take advantage of those closest to him. But I’m sure you're well aware of that.”

Byleth didn’t respond. This certainly wasn’t the first time Claude had paraded him around for the sake of recognition. Byleth was already the face of the resistance against the Empire, and he had a good idea what Claude had been telling the other lords while he was absent.

“Claude’s already introduced me, hasn’t he?” Byleth asked.

“For the most part,” Judith confirmed, making a left turn and leading him down a hall where two large double doors stood at the end, no doubt the entrance to the meeting room. “They’re aware that you have been leading our forces, but he hasn’t yet told them that you’re Rhea’s successor.”

“Probably waiting for dramatic effect.”

“I should warn you that you have quite a reputation to live up to, thanks to him. Try not to disappoint them.” Judith lightly teased. “Good luck, Professor.”

Byleth scowled in annoyance as Judith opened the door and the two made their way inside. Whatever conversation had been going on in their absence was immediately stifled upon their arrival.

“Well, if it isn’t the man of the hour. Thanks for joining us, Teach.” Claude said with a smirk, as if Byleth really had any choice in the matter.

Byleth glanced around. The meeting room was disproportionately large considering the small crowd of people it was meant to occupy. In the center of the room was a large round table with five different chairs situated within equal distance of each other. Behind each chair, a banner hung bearing the Crest or family emblem of House Riegan, House Gloucester, House Goneril, House Ordelia, and House Edmund.

Four of the chairs were already occupied by one of the Five Great Lords. Each of them had a retainer or advisor standing at their right hand with a gaggle of bodyguards and servants standing behind them.

The first of the Great Lords to catch Byleth’s eye was Count Gloucester. He knew it was Count Gloucester due to the striking resemblance he bore to Lorenz. Very tall, very thin, with straight, shoulder length purple hair and goatee. He was wearing a combination of robes and armor, also purple in color, gold trimmed, fancily decorated, well crafted...but very impractical—clearly made to flaunt his noble status.

There were a few subtle differences between the count and his son, his eyes being slightly smaller and downturned, and his nose was a tad larger. But even so, the resemblance was uncanny. Standing at his side was an Alliance general from House Gloucester and behind him was a flock of knights with Lorenz in attendance.

“Professor, good to see you.” Lorenz said, smiling earnestly.

“Ah, so you’re the charismatic professor who charmed my son to plot behind his father's back.” Count Gloucester said in a tone very similar to Lorenz's. “I must say, I’m impressed.”

The count smiled at Byleth, but Byleth didn’t return it. Count Gloucester’s smile had the same haughtiness that Lorenz's had back in the academy—no, there was more to it than that. There was something ambitious to it, something greedy, something cruel and hungry. 

After finally seeing the count in person, there was little doubt in Byleth’s mind that this was the sort of man who would be willing to plot the former Duke Riegan’s death, whether the rumors were true or not.

“I concur.” Another lord said. “The ‘magnificent Count Gloucester’ outwitted by a ragtag team of plucky children and their professor. How adorable.”

The speaker was Margrave Edmund. But the only reason Byleth could identify the lord as Margrave Edmund was because Marianne was standing behind him amid a gaggle of mercenaries hired to protect them. 

Unlike Lorenz, Marianne did not address Byleth. Her head was lowered and she was silent, seeming to have regressed back to her school days in the presence of her adoptive father. Her hands, close to her body as though to hide against her dress, fidgeted nervously.

Margrave Edmund...was not at all what Byleth had expected. Whenever Marianne spoke of him, he was painted as a cold, calculating, greedy, and stern individual, and yet his appearance hid this well. Although Margrave Edmund wasn’t Marianne’s biological father, they did share the same gentle brown eyes. His hair was coal black and slicked back, his face was jovial and deceptively young looking—he could have passed for Marianne’s brother.

The margrave’s outfit consisted of plain black pants and black vest, trimmed with gold. He was well dressed, but his attire was surprisingly humble, looking more like a wealthy merchant than a powerful lord. It was easy to see why people were so charmed by him. 

The only thing off about Margrave’s Edmund’s appearance was his smile...it was the same fake smile that Claude and Anna used to captivate others. At his right hand was a well-dressed servant wearing a monocle and carrying a notepad, acting as a scribe.

“I only led the troops in taking the bridge.” Byleth corrected him. “The plan to mislead Gloucester’s troops was Claude’s.”

“I should have expected as much.” Count Gloucester sneered, glaring across the table at Claude, who simply smiled in response.

“The time has come for this roundtable conference to begin, and yet the young Duke Goneril is absent once again." Margrave Edmund sighed.

“Trouble at Fodlan’s Throat, no doubt.” The third lord said.

This had to be Count Ordelia. He had the appearance of a mage and those sharp, calculating pink eyes were all too familiar to Byleth. The count was dressed in black robes emblazoned purple with the Ordelia family emblem. He had a rather frail build—typical for a mage—but with an unusually large gut to go with it. The appearance of a thin man who gained a lot of weight in a short period of time.

The count had short, straight white hair with a matching bushy white mustache. At first glance, one might assume that Lysithea had inherited her hair color from him. Byleth very nearly made this mistake himself, however upon closer inspection he noticed that Count Ordelia’s hair wasn’t pure white like Lysithea’s, but a very light silvery color instead. Judging by the count’s weight and the shadows beneath his eyes, Byleth couldn’t help but suspect that his hair color was a result of greying at a very early age. Likely due to stress.

Like the others, Count Ordelia had brought along his escort—mages—and standing on his right side, acting as his advisor, was Lysithea, who waved at Byleth somewhat awkwardly. Byleth tried to smile in response, though he still had trouble emoting on command. Judging by the look on Lysithea’s face, however, he seemed to have succeeded this time...or perhaps she was just amused by a stupid expression he was making.

“Yes...Lord Holst had matters to attend to at Fodlan’s Locket.” A Goneril retainer said. “He assured us he would return in time for the conference but...”

“Inattentive as always.” Count Gloucester drawled. “Between him and our leader, this new generation of nobles is becoming far too lax for my tastes.”

“Does that mean  _ I  _ have to represent House Goneril?” Hilda groaned.

“I apologize for inconveniencing you, Lady Hilda.” The retainer murmured, bowing slightly.

Byleth smirked slightly. There was something amusing about hearing his student addressed as ‘Lady Hilda’.

“Ugh...OK, fine. For Holst.” Hilda sighed, taking a seat. “But we're getting break periods, right?”

“This is hardly appropriate.” Count Gloucester frowned.

“I promise you, Hilda is more than capable of speaking on Lord Holst’s behalf.” Claude assured him.

“And should I expect House Goneril to follow through with their promises made on this girl’s behalf?” Count Glocuester protested.

“Perhaps we should put it to vote?” Margrave Edmund suggested.

“You want us to negotiate the conditions under which we will negotiate? We’ll be stuck here all day.” Count Ordelia said, rolling his eyes.

“Let her speak on behalf of Duke Goneril.” Judith suggested. “He can finalize House Goneril’s terms when he’s been brought up to speed.”

“Agreed, we'd just be wasting time otherwise.” Claude nodded. “Hilda knows her brother. I’m sure she can fairly represent him and House Goneril.”

“No. Absolutely not.” Count Gloucester insisted. “I might make an exception were this any other conference, but we’re discussing the future of the Alliance. All five lords  _ must  _ be present. I refuse to speak to a substitute!”

“Time is money, as they say.” Margrave Edmund said casually. “Come now, Gloucester, give the young lady a chance in the spotlight.”

“This carelessness must not—" Count Gloucester started, but was interrupted by Count Ordelia.

“The Empire is plotting their retribution at this very moment. We must act quickly if we are to defend our borders.”

Before anyone could respond, however, the double doors burst open.

“Evening gentlemen, hope I didn't keep you waiting.” A booming voice said.

“Well, well, if it isn’t Lord Host.” Claude smiled, standing up and shaking the young lord’s hand.

Holst Goneril was almost exactly as Byleth would have imagined him. Shorter than expected, but with a lean build and muscles that could rival Balthus'. His armor was thick and fur trimmed—likely to protect him from the cold environment of Fodlan's Throat. He also donned a magnificent pink cape, adorned by the Goneril Crest to underline his noble status and carried a massive, somewhat impractical looking battle axe on his back, one that seemed a bit too big for someone of his stature.

Holst removed his helmet, revealing short, pink windswept hair, chiseled features, the sharp pink eyes of a warrior, and a charming smile.

“Where have you been?!” Hilda demanded in exasperation. “I had to fill in the whole time you were gone and now I’m  _ exhausted.” _

“I apologize for the delay, Hilda.” Holst laughed, while Claude just shook his head. “Though I’m sure you would have represented us well.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m maturing and all that, but come on! This is  _ your  _ responsibility, Holst!” Hilda whined.

“Yes. Of course.” Holst smiled.

Holst made his way to his seat, but paused when he noticed Byleth, staring him up and down.

“Unkempt green hair, dirty clothes, vacant expression...you must be the professor!” Holst burst out, shaking Byleth’s hand with so much force that it seemed as though he were trying to rip his arm off.

When pressed to feel offended or surprised, Byleth opted for the latter with a somewhat risen brow.

“You know me?” Byleth asked, trying to keep up with Holst’s enthusiasm.

“Hilda’s told me all about you.” Holst said, smiling earnestly. “You aided our forces against the Almyran threat, did you not? And it was you who captured the Great Bridge of Myrddin with naught but a small militia under your command. Truly incredible! I’ve been meaning to—”

“Please, Duke Goneril.” Margrave Edmund interrupted. “I'm sure everyone is very excited to meet this stalwart professor, but we’re behind schedule...”

“Ah, yes, of course.” Holst nodded, taking his seat. “Apologies again for my tardiness. What did I miss? Have we all agreed to begin the fight against the Empire in earnest? If so, count me on board!”

“We've yet to reach an agreement, but with the Great Bridge of Myrddin captured, I am willing to take advantage of this opportunity.” Margrave Edmund affirmed. “Strike while the iron is hot and all that.”

“Hmph. Our roguish leader hasn’t given us much choice.” Count Gloucester sneered. “He’s effectively declared war on the Empire without the approval of the Great Lords. By all rights, he should be stripped of his title and removed from the roundtable!”

“Here we go again.” Claude sighed.

“Surely that’s a bit harsh, isn’t it, Gloucester?” Holst said reasonably. “The Empire was bound to attack us at some point. This move was, as you might say, for the future of the Alliance, was it not?”

“As much as I hate to say it, I must side with Gloucester on this.” Count Ordelia sighed.

“You too, Ordelia?” Holst frowned.

Count Ordelia nodded solemnly before turning to Claude.

“A reliable source told me I could trust you, Duke Riegan—no, Claude.” Count Ordelia said while Lysithea glanced awkwardly to the side. “And you have repaid that trust by going behind our backs and declaring war against the Empire.”

“We fought the Empire as an unaffiliated force.” Claude corrected him. “It was not a declaration of war.”

“Is that so?” Count Gloucester chimed in. “And what will the Empire think? That I had nothing to do with it? That I didn’t simply  _ allow  _ your forces to cross Gloucester territory and attack the bridge?”

Byleth frowned. Thinking back, Claude did say that this move would force Count Gloucester to cooperate, but until now he hadn't seriously considered the ramifications of taking the bridge under Count Gloucester's nose.

“Even if the Empire didn't blame him, you have shown your hand by using Riegan troops in this maneuver of yours.” Count Ordelia added.

“When it’s put that way...they do have a point.” Holst said in reluctant agreement.

“Well, something had to be done!” Claude protested. “Once the Kingdom fell, how much longer do you think it would be before the Empire came invading Alliance territory? Our best chance to defeat the Empire is by seizing Enbarr while their forces are divided between us and the Kingdom.”

“That’s not the point.” Count Ordelia stressed, shaking his head. “Fighting the Empire was not your decision to make. You have flagrantly abused your position as sovereign duke and any opportunities we had to make peaceful concessions with the Empire have been lost. Because of you, my people, my territory, and my family are now in immediate danger.”

“What do you mean?” Byleth asked, frowning in confusion. “The Great Bridge of Myrddin was the only bridge large enough for an army to cross into Alliance territory.”

“Is that what you think?” Count Ordelia asked, staring intently at Byleth.

“That’s...what I was told.” Byleth responded hesitantly.

Behind Count Ordelia, Lysithea was giving him a small, sad head shake and Byleth went numb. Had he been mistaken?  _ Could  _ the Empire still invade Alliance territory?

“By our leader I take it?” Count Gloucester scoffed.

“Yes.” Claude piped up. “I told Teach that the Great Bridge of Myrddin was the only way the Empire could cross into Alliance territory. I was worried that if I said anything else, he wouldn’t follow through with my scheme.”

This was a lie. What Claude had actually said was that the Great Bridge of Myrddin was the only bridge near Gloucester territory large enough for an army. He hadn’t said anything about the rest of the Alliance.

And although they weren’t as large as the Great Bridge of Myrddin, there  _ were  _ several bridges south of Ordelia territory large enough for an army. Teach must have missed this detail, but to Claude that didn't matter.

Claude's larger scheme depended on keeping his professor in a positive light, which meant Claude would need to take the fall in his stead. Byleth, unaware of this, simply stared at him in confusion.

“As the merchants say, ‘trust is a currency more valuable than gold’.” Margrave Edmund said. “And you, Duke Riegan, have been spending your trust far too recklessly.”

“He’s got you there, boy.” Judith chuckled.

“Regardless, it seems like we’re all on the same page when it comes to fighting the Empire.” Claude shrugged. "It's our only option at this point."

“Do not try to downplay the severity of your actions!” Count Gloucester snapped. “You have used your power in a way befitting a tyrant and have spat on the very founding ideals of the Alliance!”

“That’s going a bit overboard, isn’t it, Gloucester?” Holst gently chastised with a hesitant and passive frown. “Surely we can at least agree that taking the bridge was quite a feat.”

“Gloucester's pride is wounded, but he isn’t wrong.” Count Ordelia said, shaking his head. “I don’t mean to disparage your achievement, Professor. Taking the Great Bridge of Myrddin with nothing but a handful of troops is an incredible feat indeed. Truthfully, I can see why my daughter is so taken with you.”

Lysithea gave him a scathing look, but Count Ordelia simply ignored this and continued.

“However, this move will be seen as an act of aggression by House Gloucester and, should the Empire retaliate, it will be my territory that is razed first. Therefore, we have no choice but to follow Claude’s scheme and plead for reinforcements. Effectively, we have been forced into submission.”

“I’m sorry.” Byleth muttered sheepishly, but Count Ordelia just held up a hand.

“What’s done is done. There’s no point in lamenting about it now. All we can do is make the best of our situation.”

“Indeed. To business.” Margrave Edmund added. “We must discuss the distribution of troops and supplies. Naturally, I am more than willing to provide...a loan, to assist with the war effort.”

“What’s this about a loan?” Claude asked, raising his eyebrows.

Margrave Edmund paused for a moment as his advisor whispered something in his ear. The margrave smiled in response to this and nodded before addressing Claude.

“I believe a low interest rate of 15% would be acceptable.”

Claude shook his head.

“I understand you’re low on troops and need to contribute by other means, but you still have a duty to the Alliance, Margrave Edmund.”

“Hahaha...to be so young and naïve. I do love that aspect about you, Duke Riegan.” Margrave Edmund said cheerfully as Marianne silently buried her head in her lap. “My duty is to my people. I must raise their taxes if I am to fund the war effort. It’s only fair that they be repaid when it is all said and done.”

“Nonsense!” Lysithea blurted out. “You’re just using this as an excuse to line your  _ own  _ pockets!”

“Quite right.” Lorenz added. “Extorting the common folk and taking advantage of the war climate is a disgrace to the nobility.”

“This roundtable conference is a meeting between the Five Great Lords of the Alliance...I suggest the  _ children  _ remain quiet.” Margrave Edmund scolded, his cheery smile slipping from his face and replaced by a much darker look.

“Children?!” Lysithea burst, but before she could go further, Count Gloucester spoke up.

“These ‘children’ have a point, Edmund. The future of the Alliance is at stake and you seek to gouge us for money? I can hardly believe you would stoop so low!”

“I can.” Count Ordelia muttered.

“And I suppose you plan to repay the rest of us for the troops we’re contributing?” Holst asked, shaking his head in disapproval.

“Not at all, Duke Goneril.” Margrave Edmund smiled. “You are simply  _ loaning  _ your troops. They will be returned to you once the war is over. All I ask is that the same courtesy be extended towards my money.”

“Oh yeah? And what of the troops that  _ don’t _ make it back home? Will you be returning them too?” Claude frowned.

“I cannot be held responsible for the mismanagement of assets.” Margrave Edmund chuckled, earning a look of disgust from Holst.

“Why you—”

“Enough.” Count Ordelia interjected. “We’re wasting time. We can sort out the details of reparation later. Right now, we must reach an agreement on each lord’s contribution so we may properly defend the border.”

Margrave Edmund turned to his advisor, who whispered something in his ear. The margrave grimly nodded at first, but then smiled and turned to the others.

“I am willing to shelve this discussion for now and return to the matter at hand.”

Meanwhile Holst was receiving his own advice from his retainer while Claude received advice from Judith.

“To keep things simple, I think it would be best if each house provides an equal proportion of their current troops and wealth.” Claude proposed.

“At the very least, that should hopefully keep you all from bickering about who’s providing their fair share.” Judith added.

“Agreed. In addition, we need to consider our strategy." Holst said. "There are many variables to consider in this war. The Empire can potentially attack us from the north or the south. There is also the Almyran threat to the east to contend with. We must be prepared for any situation."

“For the general battle strategy, I say we should take advantage of the situation and continue the assault.” Claude suggested.

“We’re in no position to do that.” Count Ordelia objected. “This is the first time in Alliance history that we’ve acted as a unified force. Our troops have little experience working together and will be uncoordinated.”

“Which is why we need to attack now, while we still have momentum and the Empire is recovering.” Claude countered.

“Your inexperience is showing, Riegan.” Count Gloucester followed. “You would be sending those men and women to their deaths. I agree with Ordelia, we must act defensively until the troops are properly trained.”

“Hmmm, perhaps we should send aid to the Kingdom instead?” Margrave Edmund considered. “If we could aid in reconquering Kingdom territory, we could ally ourselves against the Empire.”

“That would, perhaps, be too defensive” Count Gloucester pointed out. “Although I prefer we err to the side of caution, we must consider that time is not on our side. The longer this conflict draws out, the more likely it is that the Empire will defeat us.”

“And trying to negotiate with the former Kingdom would be ill-advised.” Count Ordelia added. “Even if we were to retake Kingdom lands, they would be without a king. And without a king, Faerghus is nothing more than a group of disenfranchised nobles with no government. They would be even more divided than we are, and working together would be impossible.”

“You’ve been quiet for some time. What do you think, Professor?” Holst prompted.

Byleth glanced up, eyes widening slightly. In actuality, he had been tuning out most of the conversation. Watching a room filled with grown men bickering more than his own students was becoming tiresome.

“I don’t know much about politics.” Byleth said, waving a dismissive hand.

“Neither do I.” Holst laughed. “But you’re a skilled tactician, aren’t you? You must at least have an opinion on the situation.”

Everyone in the room turned their attention towards Byleth, staring in anticipation. Byleth frowned, a little taken aback, but placed a hand to his chin, contemplating in thought.

“I agree with Claude that we should take advantage of the momentum.” Byleth said slowly. “If we act defensively, the Empire will reinforce its position at the border and will eventually overwhelm us. Therefore, we should put all our effort into establishing a strong foothold in Empire territory. From here, our focus should focus on taking control of Bergliez and Aegir territory.”

“Ah, I see. You plan to cut off Hrym from the rest of the Empire, right Teach?” Claude questioned.

Byleth nodded.

“If we could take Hrym, it would be much easier to protect our borders.” Holst agreed.

“Hm, yes. Hrym territory is currently in a state of discontent and instability.” Count Ordelia mused. “If we were to cut it off from the rest of the Empire, I think they would be more than willing to annex themselves into the Alliance.”

Count Ordelia paused for a moment as Lysithea whispered something in his ear. He nodded grimly before continuing.

“However, I regret to say that I am currently in no position to take responsibility over Hrym territory. The region is in desperate need of reform and...I have my hands full as it is.” Count Ordelia sighed.

There was a pause as the room was filled with whispers from various advisors offering counsel for their lord. Margrave Edmund in particular was nodding and smiling smugly as his right hand continued to advise him. Once the whispers died down, he spoke.

“I would be more than happy to—ahem—temporarily oversee Hrym.” Margrave Edmund offered. “I understand the territory is rich in silver. Leave it to me and before you know it, Hrym will have a bustling economy and I’ll have extracted more resources for the war effort.”

More whispers filled the room. Count Ordelia shook his head and muttered something in response to Lysithea before sighing and bowing slightly.

“Yes...that may be for the best.” Count Ordelia admitted. “Margrave Edmund’s territory is small and stable. He’s in the best position to take on this responsibility.”

“All in favor?” Claude asked.

Everyone but Count Gloucester raised their hand in support.

“The ayes have it. Margrave Edmund will oversee the Hrym territory.” Claude declared. “Specifics will be covered in a later meeting. But back to the war strategy...”

“Once the Hrym region is secure, our next goal would be Fort Merceus.” Holst said.

“If we can take Varley territory, we could set up a barrier near the Oghma Mountains.” Byleth suggested. “That would effectively split the Empire in two.”

“True, but we run the risk of spreading our forces too thin.” Claude warned.

“It’s as Gloucester said, time isn’t on our side. We need to capture Enbarr and take down the Emperor quickly.” Holst reminded him.

“Perhaps we could use members of Hrym territory to bolster our army.” Margrave Edmund proposed.

“Is that really ethical?” Holst frowned in disapproval.

“The people of Hrym territory resent the Empire.” Count Ordelia reiterated. “If Margrave Edmund can improve their quality of life, they may willingly join our cause and put their lives on the line, like any Alliance soldier.”

“If they want to fight for their liberation, then I say we let them.” Claude affirmed. “But I don’t want to hear anything about forced conscription, understand?”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Duke Riegan.” Margrave Edmund said with a broad grin.

“Next we need to decide who will be commanding our troops.” Judith advised. “Although I’m sure you already have someone in mind. Isn’t that right, boy?”

“That I do, Judith,” Claude confirmed with a smile. “Naturally, I nominate Teach to—”

“No. Absolutely not,” Count Gloucester promptly rejected. “We cannot place the future of the Alliance in the hands of an outsider.”

“Right...” Claude sighed. “And I suppose for the commander of our forces you would like to nominate...yourself?”

“Naturally. After all, I am the oldest member here. By right of seniority, I should be leading our troops.” Count Gloucester declared.

“You?” Margrave Edmund scoffed. “Surely Duke Goneril would be the most qualified among our number to lead an assault.”

“I’m afraid not,” Holst denied, shaking his head. “I must remain within the Alliance to defend Fodlan’s Locket. I’m more suited to defend our territories than leading the offensive.”

“Precisely. You know your place, Holst. Meanwhile Edmund and Ordelia are not qualified and our leader cannot be trusted,” Count Gloucester insisted. “Simply put, I am the  _ only  _ one of us suited for such an undertaking.”

“Hmph. Our leader may be a scoundrel, but you’re no better, Gloucester,” Count Ordelia scowled. “Your only goal is to raise your standing in the Alliance.”

“Then you agree that our best option is to allow a neutral party—Teach—to lead our troops.” Claude encouraged.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Count Ordelia warned. “The professor may be a trustworthy individual and a skilled tactician, but I still have my concerns.”

“Oh?” Claude raised an eyebrow.

“Professor.” Count Ordelia glanced towards Byleth. “Why do you fight on the Alliance's behalf? Can you assure us that you’re not merely acting as Duke Riegan’s puppet?”

Once again, everyone at the Alliance roundtable turned to face Byleth, who paused.  _ Could  _ he, in good conscience, assure the others that Claude wasn’t just using him? The answer was...no.

“Claude  _ is  _ using me for my power,” Byleth admitted.

The room was immediately filled with murmurs at this statement. 

“That...is discouraging to hear.” Holst said, frowning slightly.

“Not at all. It’s rather refreshing to see some honesty at this table for once.” Count Gloucester smirked.

Claude didn’t say a word. He just gave his professor a smug smile—a genuine smile at that. Even now Byleth couldn’t help but feel like he was playing right into Claude’s hands.

“Then you’re aware of your position?” Count Ordelia asked with a perched eyebrow. “And yet you continue to push onward. Why do you fight, Professor?”

“For my students.”

Count Ordelia frowned, rubbing his chin in thought while Lysithea whispered something in his ear.

“How quaint,” Count Gloucester sneered with a soft roll of his eyes.

“As good a reason as any, I say,” Holst said, nodding in approval. “These students of his are family to us after all.”

“I’m sorry, but I’m not sure I feel comfortable placing my confidence in a pawn of Duke Riegan's,” Margrave Edmund muttered uneasily. “Why should we allow you to lead our armies?”

“Because I’ll win,” Byleth answered, his voice filled with conviction.

For a moment, the room went quiet in response to Byleth’s very straightforward answer. Whispers soon filled the void as the lords were once again advised. 

Claude looked laid back as usual, Holst seemed confident, nodding in agreement with what his retainer was saying, Margrave Edmund seemed curious, and Count Ordelia’s face was unreadable as he exchanged whispers with his daughter. Count Gloucester, however, was glaring daggers at Byleth, shaking his head in disapproval as he continued listening to the general next to him.

“I can attest to that, ” Claude firmly assured the others. “As can all of us students.”

“I second this notion,” Lorenz spoke up

“As do I!” Lysithea exclaimed.

“Y-Yes...with the Professor leading us, we can prevail,” Marianne said, her trembling voice filled with conviction.

Margrave Edmund turned his head in surprise. He had never seen Marianne speak with such confidence before. In fact, he had never seen her speak up at all during these meetings.

“Well, the professor’s guidance and Claude’s schemes have never let us down before, right?” Hilda reasoned. “I say we go with what works.”

“Is that so?” Count Gloucester interjected, causing everyone in the room to turn towards him. “Because I have been informed otherwise.”

“What do you mean?” Byleth frowned.

“The Battle of Garreg Mach,” Count Gloucester replied, causing Byleth’s heart to sink. “You were placed in command of the troops during that battle, were you not?”

“...I was.” Byleth acknowledged.

“And as I recall, you  _ lost  _ that battle, correct?”

“...Yes.”

“So why then, should you be permitted to lead us?” Count Gloucester demanded. “Yes, I’m sure your students are all  _ very  _ impressed that you could win a few mock battles at the academy, but this is war, ‘Professor’. You may believe yourself to be a capable commander, but all I see is a child. A charlatan who couldn’t even protect the center of our faith from his rebellious student. So I ask again, why should we entrust the future of the Alliance to you?”

“I...” Byleth faltered, finding himself speechless in the wake of the count’s chastisement.

Up until now, he had been successful in leading his students and the Knights of Seiros, but those were small skirmishes compared to the war that was to come. Despite all his accomplishments, Byleth couldn’t help but doubt himself with his failure in the Battle of Garreg Mach brought to light once again.

Lorenz stared at his father in sharp disapproval and Lysithea’s face contorted with rage, but before either of them could admonish the count, Claude spoke up.

“Hey now, is that any way to address the standing Archbishop, Count Gloucester?”

The room went dead silent. This reveal was having the exact effect that Claude had desired.

“I-I...I beg your p-pardon?” Count Gloucester stuttered, slowly turning to face Claude.

“Oh, you didn’t know?” Claude winked at the count. “Before the Battle of Garreg Mach, Lady Rhea said that if anything were to happen to her, Teach would take her place. And as of now, Seteth and the Knights of Seiros all recognize Teach as their new archbishop."

“Is this true?” Margrave Edmund asked, turning to Byleth.

“It’s true.” Byleth confirmed, only now realizing this truth when he’d heard it out of his own mouth.

He had never been addressed as ‘Archbishop’ before, but nothing Claude said was inaccurate. The room was immediately filled with whispers. Count Gloucester was having a silent but heated discussion with his advisor, while Margrave Edmund made a face as though he had been forced to swallow something vile. Count Ordelia simply looked to Lysithea, who nodded in confirmation of this revelation, before turning to face Byleth with intrigue. Holst looked amused by the situation. And Claude gave a triumphant smile. Clearly, he had been saving this trump card for just the right moment.

“P-Please, Profe—I mean Archbishop, I meant no offense!” Count Gloucester stammered, his face turning pale and his hands trembling slightly. “I was simply curious as to—but n-no, we’d be more than happy for the Church to lead us to salvation!”

Byleth rose to his feet, glancing at Count Gloucester briefly before gazing to the rest of the lords.

“I won’t ask you to trust me.” Byleth said. “I am an outsider. I did fail to protect Garreg Mach. I know very little of Fodlan’s history and politics, besides what my students have taught me. However, my students have placed their faith in me. And so I ask that you put your faith in them.”

“In...your students?” Count Gloucester asked in bewilderment.

“Since this conference began, you have spoken constantly of the future of the Alliance.” Byleth said. “My students are the heirs to the Alliance. If you can’t place your faith in them, then the Alliance has no future. ...In which case, I suggest you surrender to the Empire now.”

It was quiet again. After a few moments, however, Count Ordelia whispered something in Lysithea’s ear. Whatever he said made her face turn bright red as she hissed in response, causing Count Ordelia to chuckle. It was the first time Byleth had seen him smile during the whole meeting.

“I second Duke Riegan’s nomination.” Count Ordelia decided. "Our children cooperated in the capture of the Great Bridge of Myrddin, in spite of the consequences. Despite all the risks this brings to our territory, my daughter placed her trust in this professor of hers. I will have faith and assume her trust is well placed."

“Hear hear! That makes a majority vote then, I also approve.” Holst smiled.

“Well Count Gloucester? Margrave Edmund? Will you accept Teach’s leadership?” Claude asked, smirking as the two continued to receive counsel from their advisors.

“...I...approve.” Count Gloucester said gloomily after a few moments, a look of utter defeat etched on his face.

“It’s unanimous.” Margrave Edmund confirmed. “And...I have been advised that it would be within my best interests to contribute my fair share of coin without a loan.”

The margrave’s expression looked particularly sour upon saying this.

“It’s settled, then. By the end of this month, we will have established our first foothold in the Empire with Teach as our military commander. We leave the rest in your capable hands, my friend.” Claude said, grinning at Byleth.

Everything had gone according to plan. Just as Claude had expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unfortunately it may be awhile before I update again. Not going on hiatus or anything, but the next chapter will be my first attempt at romance and uhh...yeah, that might take awhile. Hopefully the wait won't be as long as this one then.


	17. Words to Believe In (Verdant Wind: 6/9)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Lysithea's secret revealed, Byleth vows to find a way to restore her lifepsan. With little time to spare, the two begin working together in earnest, searching for ways to remove Lysithea's Crests. However, working together leads to some unexpected changes in their relationship...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew! ...That uh...that took forever to update. I'll admit, writing this sort of thing isn't my forte, but hopefully it didn't end up too badly.

**Verdant Wind**

**The Chaos of War**

**Day 9 of the Garland Moon**

It was lunch time and Garreg Mach’s dining hall was abuzz with various chatter and the clinking of silverware as the soldiers of the Alliance Army and Knights of Seiros discussed the status of the war. All things considered, the atmosphere was fairly lighthearted. With Fort Merceus taken, everyone was in good spirits.

At this moment, the united forces that made up the resistance were busy cutting off the Imperial Capital, Enbarr, from the rest of the Empire. Once this was done, they would invade the capital city itself. It was only a matter of time until the war was finally over.

In the corner of the dining hall, away from all the commotion, Lysithea was sitting alone at a table. Lysithea bore a small frown on her face and her forehead was wrinkled with concentration as she squinted at the stack of papers in front of her. To her right was a second stack of papers, currently unattended. However...

“The special was vegetable stir-fry. I thought you might prefer something else,” Byleth announced upon his return, carrying two cups of peach sorbet.

“Thank you,” Lysithea muttered, staring intently at the papers.

Byleth placed their desserts on the table and began to tuck into his treat, eyes widening slightly when he noticed that Lysithea wasn't doing the same.

“Usually you’re much more excited when I offer you sweets,” Byleth commented.

“...Huh? Did you say something, Professor?” Lysithea asked after an extended pause, glancing up towards Byleth. 

Byleth simply stared at her and didn't respond. Lysithea tilted her head in confusion.

“Oh! My favorite food, thank you!” Lysithea exclaimed, finally noticing the sorbet and immediately digging in.

“You seem distracted,” Byleth noted.

“Ib juf...can reb yor ribing,” Lysithea said incoherently, her mouth filled with ice cream.

Byleth raised an amused eyebrow, waiting for Lysithea to finish her food.

“Ugh. Sorry. It's just...I can’t read your notes, Professor,” Lysithea pouted.

“What part are you struggling with?” Byleth asked, leaning over her shoulder with a small frown.

“Right here,” Lysithea clarified, pointing to the section in question. “What does this word say?”

“Medicine.”

“Medicine?!”

“I spelled it correctly.”

“You did but...yikes, your handwriting is really sloppy, Professor. It’s almost as bad as Cyril’s!”

“Writing wasn't a necessary skill for a mercenary,” Byleth pointed out a little defensively. “And I don’t have time to write neatly.”

For some reason Lysithea giggled at this. Byleth’s brow rose somewhat, his head tilting slightly.

“Something funny?”

“It’s nothing,” Lysithea hummed with a small smile. “But do you think you could read this passage for me?”

It had been almost a month since Byleth had agreed to help Lysithea remove her Crests. With less than five years to see this promise to fruition before her life was cut short, the professor was always pressed for time. And because of this, there had been a slight change in his behavior. These days, Byleth always seemed to be in a hurry. In some ways, he was starting to remind Lysithea of...herself.

Part of their effort was studying Crests. This involved taking notes on anything that could be relevant to Lysithea’s cure,and comparing notes every day during meals. They were both diligent in their research, but after all this time, Lysithea still had trouble reading the professor’s handwriting.

“‘In Imperial Year 944, King Klaus III was the first member of the Blaiddyd family line to receive the newly discovered medicine for his deteriorating muscles.'" Byleth recited. "'Scholars note that from this point onward, there was a significant increase in the life expectancy of the royal family.’”

“Uh, I’m not sure I understand what you’re getting at...” Lysithea said, frowning in bewilderment.

“According to Kingdom records, members of the Blaiddyd royal bloodline are prone to suffer muscle deterioration in their later years.” Byleth explained. “This could be a result of genetics, but wouldn't it make sense if the problem stemmed from their inherited Crest?”

“Hm...the Crest of Blaiddyd wearing on the muscles of an elderly body..." Lysithea mused. “I suppose that does seem logically sound. But do you really think the medicine they used would help  _ my  _ condition?”

“No, I don't.” Byleth admitted, shaking his head. “We don’t know how this medicine worked, but perhaps it was used to dampen the Crest of Blaiddyd's power?”

“Ah, I see. And you think we could study this medicine and use it on my Crests?”

“That’s the idea.” Byleth nodded.

“Hmm...with the Kingdom's current climate, I don’t know where we would go for answers.” Lysithea frowned.

“True. And there’s no remaining members of the Blaiddyd line.” Byleth added.

“Still, it’s worth considering.” Lysithea said encouragingly, circling the passage. “And what about you, Professor? Have you seen anything in my notes worth investigating?”

“Not yet.” Byleth said, glancing back at Lysithea’s notes and taking another bite of his sorbet. “A lot of the information you have here is...incomplete.”

“That’s because the ‘Shadow Library’ in Abyss isn't very reliable,” Lysithea sulked. “Honestly, it’s a huge pain trying to compile the information stored there. So many books were damaged or had pages removed by Seteth. ...Actually, would you mind switching roles with me, Professor? You’re more familiar with Abyss and frankly I find that place a bit unsettling.”

“We can’t do that.” Byleth said, shaking his head. “The books in Abyss are sketchy or founded in theory. I’m relying on your knowledge of magic, Crestology, and Fodlan’s history to pick out facts from fiction. You’re the only one who can do this.”

“I suppose you do have a point...” Lysithea conceded, smirking proudly. She did like being depended on.

“...However, I could accompany you to Abyss, if you’re scared.” Byleth offered after a slight pause.

“Hey! I’m not...scared.” Lysithea mumbled.

Byleth just gave her a knowing look and Lysithea sighed.

“Actually, yes, I would appreciate it if you came with me.” Lysithea admitted awkwardly. “Um, especially at night.”

Byleth gave her a rare comforting smile, which Lysithea returned. She was used to being guarded, hiding her insecurities from others...but there was no chance of that with the professor. Not anymore.

It all started last month. Day 11 of the Harpstring Moon.

Lysithea remembered that day well. She had pushed herself too hard during their training. So hard that even the professor had insisted that she rest. Lysithea had, foolishly, refused to listen to him. She even had the gall to suggest that  _ he  _ rest instead. And, in her attempt to continue pushing herself, she had collapsed then and there...right in front of Byleth.

In hindsight, she ought to have known better. The professor wasn't normally the type to tell her to rest or slow down, in fact he was one of the few people who encouraged her to work hard and even praised her determination. If Byleth, of all people, insisted on rest...perhaps she ought to have listened to him. It had been an intense training session, after all. Prolonged by Byleth and Lysithea’s use of white magic to increase each other’s endurance and stamina.

At any rate, Lysithea had collapsed, and it had been her professor who cared for her. Despite how clearly fatigued he was, Byleth had carried her, like a princess, all the way to the infirmary. And he had done it alone, not alerting any of the others, to save her the embarrassment of being seen as some frail child.

It was in the infirmary that Byleth had personally tended to her, staying by Lysithea’s side until she had awoken. She remembered opening her eyes and the first thing she saw was her professor, his face uncharacteristically filled with concern and worry. Even after she awakened, the professor had taken care of her...even doting on her a little. 

Normally she would have protested, but in the moment Lysithea had been too ashamed and embarrassed of herself to chastise the professor for the patronizing kid treatment. By the end of it, Lysithea knew she owed the professor an explanation for her reckless behavior. And so, without any alternatives, she had told him...everything.

Byleth had been sympathetic to her story, but his reaction had been completely different to that of her parents. There had been no tears, no sense that the professor was looking down at her with pity. Instead, it was with brazen confidence and unyielding resolve that Byleth suggested they find a way to remove her Crests.

It was unrealistic to say the least. Even now, despite her efforts, Lysithea didn’t truly believe it could be done. Removing a Crest? Impossible. Removing two of them? Doubly so. Still...she couldn’t just sit idly by while the professor worked for her sake. And despite how hopeless the situation seemed, it did bring the two of them together...

Conducting research on Lysithea's condition had required her to recite everything that occurred during the Empire’s occupation of Ordelia territory. Any details of the blood reconstruction surgery that might be useful to their research had to be considered. Lysithea told Byleth everything she could remember about the experiments, the process involved, the spells she recalled being used, and other such details.

She told him all of that and more. Every painful detail. Every humiliating, dehumanizing detail of her confinement. Lysithea shared stories she wasn’t even sure her parents were aware of. If she was being honest with herself, she might have gone a little overboard. But Byleth had been with her the entire time. Her professor was the only person Lysithea could truly be open with. The only one she could be vulnerable around...

“Lysithea, what’s this?” Byleth asked.

“Huh?” Lysithea blinked, broken from her trance.

“Here.” Byleth pointed. “You crossed out this part. ‘Holy Elixir’?”

“Just a folktale I came across.” Lysithea said, shaking her head dismissively. “Apparently there’s a legend in Kupala, a hidden region within the Leicester Alliance, that in a time of war, the people of the village were able to use some sort of red holy elixir to receive Crests and drive back their foes.”

“And if these village people can bestow Crests, you think it’s possible they would know how to remove them?” Byleth speculated.

“Yes. That’s the theory, anyway. But...” Lysithea shook her head. “It’s hard to believe such a story is true. Professor Hanneman spent his entire career looking for a way to bestow Crests onto others. I doubt it could be so simple as this.”

Byleth paused in thought. Red elixir bestowing a Crest. It  _ did  _ sound too simple to be real, but there was something about it that rang true with him. He had heard something like this before. Something to do with...Jeralt?

Holy elixir... Red liquid... Yes, now he recalled. It was a conversation he had with Alois. According to him, Jeralt had not only received a Crest, but this Crest had extended his lifespan.

_ “He said he'd had an infusion of Crest-bearing blood, and it had greatly extended his life.” _

_ Could  _ it really be that simple? Byleth had a hard time believing that nobody, in the history of Fodlan, had been given a transfusion of Crest-bearing blood before. In fact, Byleth knew that wasn't the case. He had donated quite a bit of his own blood back in his mercenary days and even now. And it wasn't as though soldiers with the Crest of Flames were popping up.

Still...there was some truth to Alois’ story. Byleth had known Jeralt his entire life, and all that time he had never aged. Was the secret to Jeralt’s power and longevity truly a Crest?

_ “When I first met Jeralt, he was quite young.” _

_ “On the verge of death. I tended to his wounds in a desperate attempt to save his life. Thankfully, my efforts were not in vain.” _

Could that have been it? Is it possible that  _ this  _ was when Jeralt had received the transfusion of Crest-bearing blood? Could it be that the one who gave Jeralt his Crest was the same person behind Byleth’s connection to Sothis? Perhaps...the same person who bestowed the Crest of Flames upon Byleth?

_...Rhea. _

“Professor?” Lysithea spoke up.

Byleth frowned for a moment, piecing it all together, before turning to her.

“I may have found a lead to—"

“Lysithea, Teach...mind if we join in?” Claude requested, smirking as he and Hilda set their trays on the table, sitting opposite of the pair.

“...Not at all,” Byleth said after a slight pause, quickly removing their notes from the table while Lysithea scowled in annoyance.

“So, what were you two talking about?” Hilda asked brightly.

“Nothing.” Byleth and Lysithea said in unison.

Claude and Hilda briefly side-eyed each other, both wearing smug grins.

“Nothing, eh?” Claude repeated with an amused smirk while Hilda giggled. “You two seemed pretty engaged in your discussion if you ask me.”

“Well we didn’t ask,” Lysithea grumbled crossly, folding her arms. “What do you want anyway?”

“Easy there! There’s no need to get defensive.” Claude assured her, hands raised. “It’s just been awhile since we had lunch with our favorite Teach. Right, Hilda?”

“Exactly!” Hilda nodded in agreement. “It’s been so long, why haven't you been inviting us to dine with you lately, Professor?”

Byleth remained silent.

“You aren’t playing favorites, are you, Teach?” Claude asked with a playful wink.

Byleth was still quiet. He really didn’t have a good response to this.

“I’ve just...uh...been sitting where it’s quieter, ” Lysithea said unconvincingly. “It’s pure coincidence that the professor has been joining me. Right, Professor?”

“Right. I prefer the quiet too,” Byleth said with a small groan; Lysithea was a terrible liar.

“The quiet, huh?” Hilda repeated over the noisy dining hall.

“Is that why you haven’t been as involved with our strategy meetings? Claude accused.

“You said you wanted to handle the Fort Merceus scheme alone,” Byleth reminded him.

“Fair point.” Claude conceded. “Still, I can’t help but notice that you two have been spending an awful lot of time together lately.”

This was true. Working on a way to remove Lysithea’s Crests in the middle of a war was no small feat. It took a considerable amount of time and effort from both of them. In order to achieve the best results, the two of them made a conscious effort to align their study times. And in order to do that, they had to sync their schedules.

When Byleth ate, Lysithea ate. When Byleth reviewed tactics, Lysithea reviewed tactics. Their troops engaged in joint training sessions. If they had independent responsibilities, they would work with each other to get these completed as soon as possible. As a result, Byleth and Lysithea had become almost inseparable as of late.

“I’ve noticed the same with you and Hilda,” Byleth countered.

Now it was Lysithea’s turn to groan. The professor had a habit of deflecting whenever an uncomfortable subject was brought up. Such as when Flayn asked about his age or Lysithea brought up his love life at the Goddess Tower. To anyone who knew the professor, this was an obvious tell and, judging by Hilda’s laughter, it seemed as though she and Claude were catching on.

“Oh? Have we piqued your interest?” Claude questioned playfully.

“I suppose it’s true that we have been spending more time together lately.” Hilda admitted. “We could tell you what we’ve been up to...”

“But only if you do the same. Sound fair?” Claude suggested.

“I have absolutely  _ no  _ interest in either of your private lives.” Lysithea huffed. “Anyway, I’m done eating now. Come on, Professor, let’s go.”

Without another word, Lysithea took Byleth’s hand and led him away from the dining hall, leaving their half-eaten desserts behind.

“Oh dear, maybe we pushed too much...” Hilda hummed with a frown.

“They’ll be fine,” Claude insisted, waving his hand dismissively. “Still, I wonder what they could be hiding...”

“Clearly, they’re seeing each other, Claude,” Hilda surmised. “I mean it’s kinda obvious, right?”

“I suppose. But is Teach really the type of person who would hide that from us?” Claude wondered.

“He must not have much experience with girls. The poor professor is probably shy,” Hilda considered sympathetically.

“Hm...” 

Claude placed a hand to his chin, lost in thought.

Hilda’s answer seemed logical and, with the war reaching its climax, Claude was in no position to be worrying about Lysithea and Teach’s potential love life...and yet he couldn’t help but feel something was off. When had this unusual behavior started anyway? Claude had been so busy plotting out the details for Fort Merceus that he hadn’t even noticed until recently.

* * *

“Mind telling me where we’re going?” Byleth asked in his usual flat tone as Lysithea continued to drag him along determinedly.

“I’m...not sure,” Lysithea admitted, coming to an abrupt stop and releasing her professor’s hand.

“They only tease you to get a response.”

“Yes, yes, I know...”

Lysthea sighed. She had this conversation with the professor before, back in her academy years. Claude teased Lysithea because getting a reaction and seeing her indignant outbursts was his bizarre idea of fun. If she wanted it to stop, she had to learn to ignore it...that’s what the professor said, and Lysithea knew he was right. After all this time, she thought she was getting better at tuning Claude out and controlling herself, however...

This time it was different. Now he was dragging the professor into his teasing and Lysithea couldn’t help but feel a little protective. With all the stress the two were enduring, the last thing she needed was for herself and the professor to get caught up in some baseless rumors. ...Well, mostly baseless. There was one thing Claude was correct on.

“Still, I can’t help but feel as though he’s right in a way,” Lysithea added, looking up at Byleth with concern. “I  _ have  _ been taking up a lot of your precious time, Professor. ...Haven’t I?”

Byleth shook his head and Lysithea stared in disbelief. He couldn’t be serious. How long had it been since he had a moment of respite to himself? Just today, they had already spent a number of hours together. Surely he was feeling drained by all of this.

“I plan to see this through no matter what,” Byleth stated. “Your assistance is only reducing my workload, not costing me time.”

“And I can’t talk you out of it? Even if what you hope to do is impossible?” Lysithea asked, her brows furrowed.

“No. You can’t stop me.”

Lysithea gave a small sigh of exasperation, but smiled nonetheless. Although she still felt a little guilty towards the situation, she couldn’t help but admire her professor’s determination. Despite how bleak their chances seemed, seeing her professor’s resolve only made her more intent on helping him through this.

“Well, if you put it that way, then I won’t give up either then!” Lysithea cheered somewhat eagerly.

Byleth smiled warmly in return. Perhaps it was just her imagination, but the professor seemed to be smiling a lot more lately...

“Should we return to the library and continue our research?” Byleth proposed.

“I’d love to, but it’s my turn to wash laundry,” Lysithea sighed. “Maybe later.”

“I thought Raphael was handling your chores. Isn’t that why you clean his room?”

“He is, but I’m not letting him wash my  _ clothes, _ Professor,” Lysithea huffed indignantly.

Byleth cocked his head to the side, his face expressionless, but still clearly confused. Lysithea gave another small sigh. As smart as the professor was, he could be strangely clueless at times.

“If that’s the case, I'll go over some tactics and formations with the troops. I could do some independent research as well.”

“Um, wait, Professor...perhaps you could assist me with drying?” Lysithea suggested.

“You want me to help you...dry your clothing?” Byleth asked, once again bewildered. “What would you have me do?”

Was there anything  _ to  _ be done other than...watch the clothes dry?

“It’s just...you bring out the sunshine when you’re around, Professor,” Lysithea said unconvincingly. "It makes the task easier."

“You’re not a good liar...” Byleth muttered, shaking his head.

“It’s true!" Lysithea exclaimed. "Whenever I dry the clothing alone, it tends to rain. It may have something to do with my Crest. But whenever I’m around you, it’s usually sunny. So perhaps  _ your  _ Crest brings out the sun?”

“And our Crests only bring about these weather changes when you dry your clothes?” Byleth asked, with a rare playful smirk.

“Oh, drop the look of amusement, will you? I’m being serious!” Lysithea pouted.

“If you want to spend time together, we could have tea when you’re finished,” Byleth offered, upon seeing her sad expression.

“That’s not—ugh...never mind,” Lysithea sighed. “Actually, tea does sound nice, now that you mention it. It wouldn’t hurt to treat ourselves after all the hard work we’ve been doing lately, right?”

“I can provide the tea if you provide the snacks,” Byleth said with an encouraging nod.

“That sounds fair to me,” Lysithea said, giving him a sweet smile. “The clothes should be dried by sunset, so I’ll see you later this evening, Professor.”

Byleth stood silently for a moment, frowning as he watched Lysithea make her way back to her quarters. Just now, he had felt a strange heat. The heat he always felt when he was engaged in battle with Edelgard. Did that mean Edelgard was nearby? That couldn't be possible.

...No, this was different. The heat he felt had been isolated in his chest. And it occurred just moments ago when Lysithea had smiled at him. Why was that? Byleth took a few seconds to ponder this before shaking his head, dismissing it, and making his way towards the training grounds.

* * *

Later that day, after reviewing gambits and training with the troops, Byleth resumed his research in the monastery’s library. Instead of researching Crests, however, he was busying himself with a stack of books on human biology. 

Byleth wanted to know the functions of blood, what role it played in the human body, and how it was created. After all, Crests existed within flesh and were particularly associated with blood. That was the first thing Hanneman had taught him about Crestology.

Byleth had spent a lot of time with Hanneman during his days in the academy and Hanneman often loved to speak about his field of study. Because of this, Byleth actually knew a fair bit about Crestology. He and many of his students bore Crests, as did the students of the rival houses. Because of this, Byleth had taken some interest, wanting to understand the powers they could grant to his allies and enemies.

Unfortunately, Byleth had only been interested in knowledge that could help him in the field of battle or help him understand his student's strengths and weaknesses. This interest did not extend to the more biological aspects of Crestology. How did Crests manifest in the blood? How were Crests passed from parent to child? He had never even considered such questions.

Jeralt had supposedly received his Crest from a blood transfusion. And something similar had happened to Lysithea. She had been too heavily drugged to remember everything, but she did recall the imperial mages injecting blood into her. Once again, it sounded so simple, but Byleth was sure there was more to it...otherwise, everybody would have a Crest by now.

Byleth sighed, closing his book before picking up the next. So far none of these books had an answer to his current question: How was blood created? Surely, Rhea had done something to Jeralt’s body that caused it to  _ generate  _ Crest bearing blood. The same was likely true for Lysithea. 

If he understood  _ how  _ the body created blood, perhaps he could discover a way to stop it from creating Crest-bearing blood. However...

_ SLAM! _

“Really!” A nun snapped from across the room as Byleth shut another book in frustration.

Still no answers. The church had so much knowledge when it came to white magic, but there was almost no information on human biology. If only Manuela were still with the church. Her talents lay in white magic as well, but unlike most white mages, she still knew quite a bit when it came to the human body. If she couldn’t answer Byleth’s questions, she could have at least pointed him in the right direction.

But no, the way things were looking, he wasn’t going to find a cure using natural methods. That left only one option on the table...blood magic. The most dangerous and forbidden magic of all. Even Lysithea didn’t dabble in this field of sorcery. It was a last resort...but—

Byleth shook his head. This was the same sort of magic that those wicked mages used to give Lysithea her Crests in the first place. Could he truly even consider stooping so low and committing to such foul practices? Although he had some talent in magic, Byleth wasn’t in the same league as Lysithea. He would need to ask her opinion before taking such risks.

He rose from his seat and began perusing the library shelves once again. For the time being, Byleth would just go back to studying basic Crestology and see if he could find anything helpful. It was possible that blood magic wouldn’t be necessary. After all, Jeralt had received his Crest from Rhea and she would never resort to using such methods...right?

With the Invasion of Enbarr looming over their heads, Rhea would surely be returned to them soon. And it was possible that she had the answers Byleth was seeking. There were a lot of questions he had for Rhea...his birth, his mother, his identity, and now he needed to know if she had the cure for Lysithea. Just as Claude said, Rhea was holding out on a lot of secrets.

And if Lysithea could have her Crests removed...did that mean Edelgard could be cured as well? Thinking on it, did Byleth even know for certain if Edelgard had a shortened lifespan or not? She had never mentioned it, but if her white hair was any indication, her situation was likely the same as Lysithea’s.

...Or perhaps Edelgard had already discovered a means to remove her Crests? And she was waiting for the war to be finished before stripping herself of this power. It made sense. Edelgard had those Imperial mages at her command. Perhaps they had already developed a cure for her?

Byleth made his way back to his seat after finally finding the book he had been looking for,  _ The Secrets of Crests. _

Secrets...he still hadn’t told anyone about Edelgard’s secret. Byleth couldn’t help but feel a little irresponsible, keeping his allies in the dark about Edelgard’s true power...all because he was too sentimental to break a promise made to an old friend. As for the potential secret of removing Crests, was it even reasonable to assume that Edelgard would share her methods, assuming they existed?

_ “I’ll share my secrets with you. But only if you lay down your arms and surrender. That is my final offer.” _

...Yep, that sounded like Edelgard. And as much as Byleth hated to admit it, it would be unrealistic to expect her to surrender. Edelgard would fight to the death. And if she lost the ability to fight, she would rather die than submit.

Still, if there was even a small possibility that she could be reasoned with...that he could learn a method to remove Crests from Edelgard and resolve things peacefully, then he had to try.

Byleth continued his note taking, jotting down anything that might be relevant or worth further researching in his usual rushed handwriting. He was able to remain productive for some time, but after a while he found his pace was slowing to a crawl. He was rereading the same sentences over and over, his comprehension skills diminishing as his mind began to wander. This simply wouldn’t do. He would be of no use to Lysithea if he couldn’t concentrate.

And yet, ironically, it was Lysithea that his mind kept wandering back to. It had been this way for some time now. His thoughts were consumed with the well-being of his student, often keeping Byleth up during the late hours and prompting him to pull all-nighters, looking for a cure. It was all well and good to use his concern as motivation, but he couldn't allow it to distract him.

Byleth once again resumed his note taking, and although his mind would occasionally wander, he was always able to redirect his focus back on the book he was reading. He was able to retain this focus for some time until...

_ Although not necessary to perform magic, Crest bearers are known to have a natural proficiency with the subject, regardless of their Crest type. Crests, by nature, attract magical energies, which the user can draw upon to perform spells. The magical energies drawn in by a Crest are channeled in accordance to the Law of Anima Transmutation and— _

“Law of Anima Transmutation?” Byleth repeated to himself.

Instinctively, Byleth glanced up to the seat across the table, about to ask Lysithea if she could explain this concept to him but...obviously, she wasn’t there. Byleth couldn’t help but huff in annoyance. The writers of these books had an annoying habit of referencing various laws and magical theories without properly explaining them to the reader.

Byleth was certainly capable of casting spells, conserving energy, and applying magic effectively in combat...but Lysithea held a much deeper understanding of magic that he simply couldn’t match. Byleth understood only a few of the laws and theories behind magic, whereas Lysithea seemed to have memorized all of them. She was brilliant that way...

...What was this feeling? His chest felt hot and Byleth found himself constantly glancing outside the window, as if the sky would turn to sunset at any moment. For some reason, he felt...anxious to see her again. But it had only been a few hours...he couldn’t possibly be feeling lonely, could he?

Byleth felt a twinge of annoyance as he caught himself glancing outside the window once again. There was no denying it at this point...yes, he already missed her. It was hard to believe, considering he had always been a loner his entire life, but it was true.

Perhaps he would have been better off taking Lysithea up on her offer and just researched while her clothes dried. She’d certainly be more useful explaining the principles of magic to him than she was wandering inside his head and distracting him. 

Not to mention...Lysithea probably missed him too, didn’t she? Thinking back, she had looked rather disheartened when he refused to stay with her...with those pouting lips and those wounded puppy-dog eyes.

Byleth winced, trying to clear the image from his mind. Even after all these years, Lysithea still had that same pitiful sad expression whenever she was upset. He couldn’t stand it when she looked at him that way, it was almost...painful to see. 

After a few moments, Byleth let out a sigh. Clearly, he wasn’t making any progress at this rate, so maybe there was something he could do to cheer Lysithea up instead? ...But what? Byleth placed a hand to his chin in thought.

_ Day 8 of the Pegasus Moon, Year 1157 _

_ Raining. Mission took longer than expected and I returned home wet and caked in mud. Figured Sitri would be upset, so I picked some flowers in the greenhouse. Despite my worries, she greeted me with a warm, home cooked meal. And, upon seeing the flowers, her face lit up with a smile as bright as the sun. Incidentally the rain stopped pouring around that time too. _

Flowers? That was certainly a pattern Byleth had noticed in Jeralt’s diary entries. Whenever he wanted to make Byleth's mother happy, he would bring her flowers. But was this an effective method on all women? And would it work on Lysithea? Byleth did recall her expressing a fondness for lilies. And maybe there was something else Byleth could do to cheer her up as well.

* * *

Several hours later Byleth returned to his room. A bouquet of lilies lay sitting on his desk while he heated a pot of water using flame magic. It was evening now and Lysithea had likely finished drying her clothes. She would be joining him at any minute.

Sure enough, just as Byleth was adding the boiling water and tea leaves to the teapot, he heard a crude knocking on his door, as if someone was kicking it.

_ Knock...knock... _

“Um, Professor? My hands are full, would you mind opening the door?” Lysithea called from the other side.

Byleth set down the teapot and opened the door for Lysithea, who was carrying a large plate of sweets and wearing a wreath made of white flowers.

“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long, did I?” Lysithea asked, setting the plate down and taking her seat.

“I wasn’t bothered,” Byleth fibbed, pouring their tea.

Lysithea's eyes widened as she caught a whiff of the tea Byleth was serving. 

“Wow, this tea smells so fancy. Thank you,” Lysithea exclaimed, flashing another one of her sweet smiles.

“It’s Leicester Cortania.” Byleth commented, setting the teapot back down.

“W-What?!” Lysithea gasped, nearly dropping her cup.

“Don’t like the flavor?” Byleth asked with a small frown.

“No...that’s not it,” Lysithea murmured slowly, glancing back at the tea, now recognizing the distinct smell. “It’s just...this is the tea  _ nobles  _ drink. Are you sure it’s OK for us?”

“I already prepared it,” Byleth pointed out. “Besides, you are a noble, aren’t you?”

“That’s not—ugh...” Lysithea sighed. “Well, I’ll make sure to reimburse you, OK? This tea must have been expensive.”

Byleth shook his head. The whole point of buying this tea was to cheer Lysithea up. It didn’t count if  _ she  _ paid for it.

“Thank you, but I have my own money.”

“Not much, if I recall. Didn’t you say your father drank away all of your mercenary savings?” Lysithea accused.

“We kept our gold separate once I became a professor.”

“But you stopped receiving a salary once the monastery fell.” Lysithea pointed out, her eyes narrowing.

Not only did her professor stop receiving funds from the Church of Seiros, but a teacher's salary was a mere pittance to begin with. This tea sold for around two thousand gold...that was about the same as a professor's monthly payment!

“...I also brought you some flowers,” Byleth murmured nervously, successfully managing to distract her.

“Oh!” Lysithea gasped, taking the bouquet of lilies. “For me? They smell lovely...thank you, Professor.”

“They go well with the flowers in your hair.” Byleth commented with a small smile.

“Huh? Oh, this?” Lysithea removed the wreath, smiling slightly. “I actually made it for you, Professor.”

“For me?” Byleth asked quietly as Lysithea placed it on his head.

“I didn’t have much to do while I was waiting for the clothes to dry...” Lysithea mumbled shyly. “So, Hilda um...offered to teach me how to weave a white rose garland.”

For some reason Lysithea blushed at this, but Byleth just frowned in confusion.

“Are you unaware of this month’s tradition?” Lysithea asked, noticing her professor's expression.

Byleth went silent for a moment, thinking it over, before clicking his fingers in remembrance.

“During the Garland Moon women weave garlands for close friends, right?” Byleth recounted. 

If memory served, he read something about his mother doing this for Jeralt during a Garland Moon many years ago.

“That’s mostly accurate, yes.” Lysithea nodded with a bashful expression. “I just...wanted to thank you. For everything you’ve done to help me, I mean.”

“I haven’t really done anything yet.” Byleth admitted.

Lysithea shook her head.

“You’ve worked tirelessly, searching for ways to remove my Crests and...well it makes me happy to know that someone believes in my future.” Lysithea said with a small smile. “Regardless of the outcome, I’ll always be grateful towards you, Professor.”

Byleth frowned. She  _ did  _ seem grateful, but there was something...resigned in Lysithea’s voice. As if she had simply come to accept her inevitable fate. This only made Byleth want to work harder. He clenched his fists and, just as he was about to suggest they continue their research over tea, Lysithea spoke again.

“It’s rare that we get to sip tea and relax like this anymore.”

Lysithea let out a long peaceful sigh, which Byleth echoed. 

...No, he couldn’t ask her to work again. It had been such a long time since they engaged in a carefree activity. He was tired and so was she. Byleth didn’t want to push her. Not now.

Meanwhile Lysithea stared reflectively into her tea. She knew that the subtle taste of Leicester Cortania didn’t really suit the professor’s palette. Byleth had always preferred foods and drinks with strong flavor. Such as the sharp spiciness of Ginger Tea, the unparalleled sweetness of the Honeyed-Fruit Blend, or the uniquely flavored Cinnamon Tea. 

And ordinarily he, like Lysithea, would simply buy the Sweet-Apple Blend for its cheapness. So why such an expensive and subtle tasting tea all the sudden? Were they celebrating something? The coming end of the war, perhaps?

In any case, it was sweet of him to treat her like this. And as much as Lysithea wanted to, she knew better than to add sugar to such a fancy tea. A tea this refined and expensive was meant to be drunk plain. Even at home she wouldn’t dare add a sweetener. It was disrespectful to the host and—

_ Plop...plop...plop... _

Byleth was spooning sugar into his tea.

“What...what are you doing?” Lysithea asked, wide-eyed.

“Adding to the flavor.” Byleth said obliviously, taste testing the tea before adding a few more spoonfuls in.

“For  _ this  _ tea?!” Lysithea exclaimed.

“You told me that sugar makes everything taste better, didn’t you?” Byleth asked, with a small frown of confusion

“I...” Lysithea paused for a moment before bursting into a fit of giggles.

“Did I say something funny?”

“No. You’re absolutely right, Professor.” Lysithea said cheerfully.

She began spooning in her own sugar and gave a small hum of contentment at the taste, earning a satisfied smile from her professor. Fancy or not, tea  _ did  _ taste better with sugar.

“I've noticed you've been smiling a lot more lately.” Lysithea noted, glancing up at Byleth. “Oh! Um, that was rude of me to say. I’m sorry.” She added sheepishly.

“Am I smiling?” Byleth asked curiously, with a perched eyebrow.

“You mean you can’t tell?”

Byleth shook his head.

“Well you are, and I think it’s a nice change. Though I guess I’m hardly in a position to speak. The war hasn’t done much to lift my mood.” Lysithea admitted glumly.

Byleth nodded sympathetically.

“Once we topple the Empire and remove your Crests, we can have tea like this more often.” Byleth promised.

Lysithea only gave a small, sad smile in response.

“Are you OK?” Byleth asked, speaking with a tone of concern instead of his usual flat voice.

“I’m fine, it’s just...” Lysithea paused. “Invading the capital and smashing the Empire. I wonder if doing so could really end this war. Care to share your thoughts, Professor?”

Byleth froze for a moment. Up until now, he had always accepted the commonly held belief that defeating Edelgard would simply end the war. He had never thought to question it.

“That’s what the others seem to think.” Byleth said non-committedly, but Lysithea didn’t seem satisfied with this answer; she wanted  _ his  _ opinion. “I don’t know for sure. We still have those Imperial Mages to consider. They were probably behind the javelins of light back at Fort Merceus.”

“I think you’re right,” Lysithea nodded. “Though I still can't fathom how they could have achieved such a thing.”

“Wouldn’t it be some kind of magic?” Byleth suggested.

“I suppose so...” Lysithea considered. “But it’s not like any magic I’ve ever seen. And it makes me wonder why they haven’t targeted Garreg Mach.”

Byleth frowned, placing a hand to his chin in contemplation.

“If they haven’t targeted the monastery after all this time, then it’s safe to assume they can’t,” Byleth reasoned. “All spells have a limited range, don’t they?”

“That is true.” Lysithea nodded. “And such a powerful spell would likely require an incredible source of magic. One they must be unwilling or unable to take outside of the Imperial Capital”

“Which means the closer we get to Enbarr, the more danger we will be in.”

“I doubt they would target such destructive power on their own city.” Lysithea said, shaking her head. “But they must have known  _ when  _ we would be at Fort Merceus. It’s the only way they could have coordinated such a long-range attack.”

“Ignatz's letter included the time of our arrival. So that would be it.” Byleth decided. “The Death Knight must have seen right through it and alerted the mages.”

“To think the Empire would sacrifice all the people in Fort Mercues just to take us down. Ugh, I knew Claude's plan was flawed from the very start.” Lysithea groaned.

“It did seem a little...unsound,” Byleth admitted.

“We should have spoken up sooner.”

“We had other things on our mind. Our Crest research began that month.”

“And look at the mess it’s caused...” Lysithea sighed, guilt edging her tone.

“I wouldn’t allow research to endanger the war effort.” Byleth assured her, shaking his head. “You can blame Claude for being so secretive with his scheme for Fort Merceus.”

“Due to the Almyran involvement.” Lysithea nodded. “Even so, we should focus our efforts on the fight at hand. Once we’re finished with tea, I’d like to take a break from research and resume our training.”

“Training would be a nice change of pace.” Byleth agreed. “And winning this war is crucial if we’re going to remove your Crests.”

“Huh? I’m...not so sure those two things are correlated.” Lysithea said, with a confused frown.

“Aren’t they?" Byleth pondered. "After we’ve defeated Edelgard, we will be able to turn our focus to the Imperial Mages. And once we locate their headquarters, we can seize their research notes, bring the mages in for interrogation and—"

“And they might give us an idea on how to remove my Crests!” Lysithea concluded, excitedly. “How had I never considered this?! Do...do you really think it’s possible we might find something useful, Professor?”

Her eyes were wide and excited. For once Lysithea seemed to be...hopeful.

“I do.” Byleth said with a confident and gentle smile. “They spent a long time conducting their research in Ordelia territory. They would have held on to any research notes in case they wanted to perform these experiments again.”

There was no ‘in case’ about it. Byleth knew that Edelgard bore two Crests, which meant the mages had not only kept their research from Ordelia territory, but possibly perfected it. The two of them  _ would  _ find something in the mage’s headquarters.

“And even if I’m wrong...” Byleth added. “We can still capture and interrogate the mages ourselves.”

“I’d be happy to show them the 'results' of their experiment.” Lysithea said with a menacing grin.

The two resumed drinking their tea and nibbling on their treats. There was silence for a few moments until Lysithea let out a small sigh.

“Something on your mind?” Byleth asked.

“Hm? No. Well, I was just thinking...do you think removing my Crests would change my hair back to its original color?”

“You don’t like your current hair color?”

“It’s...” Lysithea paused. “I don’t dislike the color but it’s a reminder of all the horrors I went through.”

“I understand. It’s the same for me...” Byleth nodded sympathetically. “A reminder of what I lost.”

“What you lost...?” Lysithea repeated slowly, her eyes suddenly widening in remembrance. “Oh! I remember! You—your hair color changed too, didn’t it?”

“Have you finally grown accustomed to my new look?” Byleth asked amusedly.

“It’s been five years, Professor!” Lysithea said defensively.

“You seemed so nervous when you first saw my hair color.” Byleth said reflectively. “...Were you perhaps worried about me?”

“I was.” Lysithea admitted, unabashedly. “I still am. Your hair is almost as colorless as my own!”

Byleth turned to glance at their reflection in the mirror. She wasn’t entirely wrong. His hair was definitely green, but compared to Rhea, Seteth, and Flayn’s hair color, it looked faded. Almost as white as the woman sitting across from him.

Byleth nodded.

“I see what you mean...”

“And how can you say for certain that your body can handle so much power anyway?” Lysithea asked with a concerned frown.

“I’m fine." Byleth assured her.

“But you don’t—”

“I thought it annoyed you when people worried so much,” Byleth reminded her.

“It wouldn’t hurt for you to be a bit more cautious in a situation like this.” Lysithea said, folding her arms.

“Even if my lifespan does end up shortened, we can remove my Crest the same way we remove yours.” Byleth gently assured her.

Lysithea stared intently at him for a few moments. Was her professor just trying to shrug her off? ...Or was he  _ that  _ confident that they were going to succeed in their mission?

“Well...you’re certainly determined, Professor.”

“I am. And anyway, I think your current hair color suits you,” Byleth complimented.

“Thank you,” Lysithea murmured softly, her cheeks turning a faint pink. “A-And I’ll admit I’ve grown fond of your new look too.”

“Thanks, but I can’t say it really suits me...” Byleth shrugged, glancing at the mirror again.

“You just need a new sense of fashion. Something that compliments the new color. I...wouldn’t mind helping,” Lysithea offered. “It may surprise you, but I do have an eye for this sort of thing.”

“New clothes? What did you have in mind?”

“Hmmm...” Lysithea frowned, looking him up and down. “Something long and flowing, similar to what you’re wearing right now. As for the color scheme, I think the primary color should be white. With green as a secondary color—no wait, purple. Perhaps some black to contrast the white and—”

“Are you suggesting I borrow one of your dresses?” Byleth quipped, causing Lysithea to burst into laughter.

For some reason Byleth’s jokes had a way of making people laugh, despite his deadpan delivery. ...Or maybe it was  _ because  _ of his monotone voice that people found his jokes so funny?

This exchange went on for some time, with the two of them discussing a variety of subjects from fashion choices, to the current war situation, theories on Rhea and the monastery, their research efforts, Fodlan’s history...they were so engaged that the two of them had hardly made a dent in their selection of sweets. This was a first for Lysithea.

Their tea party had gone on for much longer than usual, and there was still work to be done. And yet, despite the gnawing feeling of urgency Byleth and Lysithea felt in the back of their heads, neither could bring themselves to conclude their time together. It was rare for Lysithea to feel this relaxed and peaceful. She didn’t want this time with her professor to end. After all, it was moments like these...that made the rest of the struggle worth it.

Likewise, Byleth was enjoying this rare period of levity. Talking to Lysithea was...fun? That was the right word for what he was feeling, wasn’t it? She was smart, funny, engaging, wise and very expressive. Lysithea was interesting, had so much insight to offer on Fodlan’s future and...he enjoyed hearing her giggle and seeing her smile. It was almost tempting to make use of the Divine Pulse so that their brief respite might go on forever but...

...No, he had to refrain. The war was reaching its end and the lives of not only Lysithea but the rest of his students were at stake. Byleth very much doubted that Edelgard and Hubert were enjoying tea at this moment. The Empire was preparing for the final battle and he needed to do the same. Just as Byleth was finally about to suggest they finish their tea party and head to the training grounds, Lysithea gave out a small yawn, stretching her arms.

“Am I boring you?” Byleth frowned.

“Hm? No, that’s not it,” Lysithea assured him earnestly. “It’s actually been a long time since I’ve enjoyed myself this much.”

“Tired then?”

“Very.” Lysithea said with another small yawn. “I'm exhausted by all my incessant thoughts. I just want to empty my mind for now.”

Byleth nodded.

Well...maybe it wouldn’t hurt if they stayed just a little longer. Long enough for the two of them to finish eating the sweets anyway. After all, Lysithea needed her energy for training, right? And this tea  _ was  _ too expensive for them to let it go to waste. They ought to finish that too.

Byleth glanced at the plate of sweets and grabbed one of the cookies. Chocolate chip, but strangely white, hard and...with an odd pasty texture. He held up this strange dessert, eyed it for a moment and—

“Oh! Professor, wait!” Lysithea gasped.

—took a bite of the cookie. Lysithea placed a hand to her mouth as Byleth’s eyes widened and began to water from the foul taste. His face was unusually animated as he glanced towards Lysithea with a look of hurt and betrayal.

“You...can spit that out,” Lysithea murmured apologetically.

Byleth complied and spit the cookie into a nearby bin before drowning out the taste with his tea.

“I...think it was poisoned,” Byleth gagged.

“It’s not poisoned,” Lysithea assured him. “Lorenz sent them to me.”

“What did you do to upset him?”

“Nothing!” Lysithea exclaimed defensively. “They’re supposed to be ‘healthy’. He sent me some other vitamin packed ‘sweets’ too, but they all taste like this. I apologize, I don’t know how that ended up with the other treats.”

“And why is he sending you these?”

“He thinks if I eat them, my lifespan will be extended.”

“It's more likely they would have the opposite effect...” Byleth mumbled grimly, glancing disdainfully at the cookie. “Why would he think that?”

“He isn’t aware of my Crests.” Lysithea sighed. “I simply told him my body wasn’t built to last but...you’re the only one I’ve told my entire story to, Professor.”

Byleth sipped in silence, unsure on how to respond to this. For a time, the two continued drinking and snacking in relative peace. Byleth was eating at a slow pace, carefully examining and smelling each sweet before consumption, worried that he would stumble across more of Lorenz’s 'health food'.

Lysithea, however, held nothing back and ate rapidly, stuffing her face with candy and pastries. Ordinarily, she was much more reserved when it came to her consumption of sweets—she was a noble after all—but it wasn't like that with the professor. 

Byleth had grown up without learning healthy eating habits or table manners. He was the one person who wouldn’t judge Lysithea for her lack of etiquette, eating too quickly, getting crumbs on her dress, or speaking with her mouth full. With him, she could eat to her heart’s content. ...Or at least, that was usually the case.

“Mmm...mmm...so tasty...” Lysithea sighed in ecstasy, shoving another cake slice in her mouth. “Mmm! Ah...MMM...this is...perfect!”

Lysithea glanced across the table. Ordinary Byleth was content to simply ignore her and eat at his own fast pace without regard to either of their slovenly table manners. But for some reason today was different. 

Byleth just stared at her with a small, content smile on his face while Lysithea's cheeks were stuffed with candy. Lysithea felt her face going red. There was something odd about the expression he was making. Something that made her feel a bit embarrassed. It was almost as though he was...

“I don’t like being stared at.” Lysithea said, her sharp tone contrasting with her shy, flattered expression.

Suddenly, Byleth’s eyes widened and he quickly turned his head away. Wait, was he...blushing?

Now it was Lysithea’s turn to stare. Had the professor  _ truly  _ been admiring her? At first, she thought perhaps it was just a misunderstanding. That the professor was probably just amused by her eating habits. But there was no denying it now. He was flustered. Her stoic, stony faced professor was getting flustered...over  _ her. _

The fancy expensive tea? The flowers? The fact that they were sitting together in the professor’s room  _ alone?  _

Up until this point, Lysithea hadn’t really considered any of it, but now she couldn’t help but wonder...was this a date? Had she been dating the professor this entire time without even realizing it?!

The Golden Deer had been through countless battles together and faced overwhelming odds and challenges. And yet through all of that, Byleth had always maintained his composure, never once showing intimidation or fear, no matter how dire things seemed. But now? Now he looked nervous. Maybe even a little shy. And unfortunately, Lysithea felt nervous too. She didn’t know how to handle this situation.

Could she even be certain that the two were on a date right now? It certainly  _ felt  _ like a date, and a very awkward one at that, due to the uncomfortable atmosphere Lysithea’s comment had created. The tension between them was becoming palpable and if Lysithea wanted to salvage this ‘date’, she needed to do something bold...

...She reached across the table and took Byleth’s hand. Byleth tensed slightly at her touch, but his grip quickly relaxed. His hand was strangely warm, she could feel the heat through his gloves.

“Lysithea?” Byleth stared up in confusion.

Lysithea gulped, hoping she wasn’t misreading the situation and making herself look like a fool again.

“I...um...I wanted to thank you once again, P-Professor,” Lysithea stammered nervously. “For everything you’ve done lately. For...not giving up on me.”

Byleth didn’t pull away. He simply nodded, glancing down at her hand.

“I just wish I had known earlier.” Byleth said softly.

“I apologize for not telling you. I was...scared.” Lysithea admitted. “Scared that you and the others wouldn’t want to waste their time with someone who didn’t have a future. Or that you might view me as weak.”

“You’re not weak.” Byleth insisted in an unusually firm tone.

Truth be told, Lysithea  _ was  _ delicate. Frail even. And five years ago, she used to be rather small as well. But she was certainly not weak. That much was clear to Byleth. 

Lysithea was strong. The strongest woman Byleth had ever come to know. In fact...maybe she was too strong. She was always pushing herself, always working hard, and she did this alone, not wanting to involve others. She was like him in that sense—no, actually, she was stronger than he was.

People had praised Byleth all his life for his work effort and dedication, but it was different for him. Because of his Crest, he had been born with enduring strength and near limitless stamina. ‘Hard work’ came easy for Byleth. But Lysithea did not have his gifts. She lacked his strength and stamina. Her Crests had essentially crippled her. And yet, despite this, she matched Byleth’s work ethic. She was the one truly deserving of praise. And on top of that, she was so amazingly selfless too...

_ “The only way I can conceive of would be to remove my Crests somehow. But I don't know if that's even remotely possible. Even if it were...I wouldn't be of much use to you and the others without my Crests.” _

Byleth clenched his hand. He rarely ever got emotional, but hearing her say that...it broke his heart.

“P-Professor...!”

She was his friend. His precious student. It was because of her and the others that Byleth was no longer alone. He refused to let them die. Not from the war and not from Crests. They saved him and so it was his obligation to do the same.

“Nggg...Pro...fessor...!”

And if anyone deserved to live a long happy life, it was Lysithea. She who, at a very young age, decided that she would sacrifice her remaining years to support her parents and those closest to her. She, who valued her worth to her friends more than her own life. Even if she could be emotional at times, she was kind beyond comparison. The kindest woman Byleth had ever known. She—

“PROFESSOR!” Lysithea shouted, wincing in pain.

Byleth blinked, finally noticing Lysithea’s pained expression and realized he had been crushing her hand this entire time. He quickly eased his grip.

“Sorry.” Byleth muttered.

Lysithea let out a huge sigh of relief, but didn’t withdraw her hand.

“Are you OK, Professor?” Lysithea asked with a concerned expression.

“Was just distracted by my thoughts.” Byleth muttered, gently running his thumb across Lysithea’s fingers and the back of her palm, attempting to ease the pain he had caused.

“What were you thinking about?”

“You.”

Byleth didn’t elaborate further. And, strangely... he didn’t need to. Lysithea knew him well enough to guess what sort of things he had been thinking about. Her well-being mostly. She knew he cared about his students more than anything else...something Claude had always been quick to take advantage of.

Byleth continued massaging Lysithea's hand with his thumb in silence. Lysithea was becoming uncomfortably aware that she didn’t know what to do in this situation. She had almost no experience dealing with the opposite sex. And based on his background...the professor was probably in the exact same situation she was in. They were both clueless.

It was funny to imagine that, despite all his stoicism and confidence, the professor didn’t know how to deal with women. Lysithea couldn’t help but giggle at the thought, however this attracted Byleth’s attention. He glanced up to her and their eyes met. Lysithea gave him a small, bashful smile that Byleth was able to return. Yes, she could see that he  _ was  _ smiling more often. But was he always this way? Or was it only when he was with her?

For a few moments, Byleth remained fixated on Lysithea as the two stared into each other’s eyes. Once again he felt a strong heat in his chest. What was this strange feeling? Why did he feel so drawn to her in the moment? Byleth quickly averted his gaze, staring awkwardly to the side. He was starting to feel...nervous.

Lysithea frowned. Why had he turned away from her? ...Was he worried that she would admonish him for staring again? She mentally cursed herself for making that comment in the first place. It was then, without thinking, that Lysithea reached out her free hand and placed it on Byleth’s cheek, gently turning him to face her once again.

“Lysithea...” Byleth whispered, his expression remained neutral, but he was clearly caught off guard...and his face was red.

“I...I...” Lysithea stammered nervously.

She couldn’t believe she had just done that! The two remained frozen in this position, Byleth’s right hand holding Lysithea’s left, and Lysithea’s right hand caressing the professor’s cheek. Lysithea was getting more and more nervous and her mind was becoming hazy.  _ And why was her hand still there?! _

Just as Lysithea was finally mustering the willpower to move, Byleth shocked her—and himself—by mimicking her action. Like Lysithea, he found that his mind had gone blank and he was acting purely on instinct, without thinking. She felt his left hand graze her cheek for a few moments, before moving towards the back of her head. There she could feel him gently stroking her hair.

Lysithea felt her throat tightening. The two of them were utterly speechless, and yet Byleth continued to stroke her hair. Lysithea took this as an invitation to push forward with...whatever they were doing. She started to caress his cheek. Byleth began leaning in towards her and Lysithea did the same...or maybe Byleth was pulling her closer? She couldn’t tell anymore. In truth, she half expected herself to wake up from this dream at any moment.

Their faces were inches apart. From here, Byleth could smell the sweet, candy scented perfume Lysithea was wearing. And, with their faces so close, Lysithea could see that Byleth was just as nervous as she was. Nevertheless, there was something fiery and determined in his eyes as he gazed at her intently, moving closer still...if Lysithea was going to wake up, she prayed it would wait just a little longer.

“Byleth...”

Hearing Lysithea say his name for the first time was enough for him to finally steel his resolve. Byleth closed his eyes and Lysithea did the same. They leaned in. Closer...and closer...

...

Their noses awkwardly bumped, preventing their lips from making contact.

"I..." Byleth began, his voice faltering.

Lysithea gave a timid laugh, endeared by his shyness, and tilted her head slightly. Byleth nodded weakly and did the same. OK. This time was for real.

The two leaned in...

_ Knock knock knock! _

“Professor? Are you there?” Leonie called from the other side of the door.

Byleth hesitated for a moment, as if debating whether or not to answer, before replying.

“...Come in.”

In the split second it took for Leonie to open the door, Byleth managed to readjust himself, returning to his neutral sitting position.

“There you are. I—” Leonie paused, glancing between the two of them.

Although Byleth had managed to completely regain his composure, his face was still reddened and, though he was unaware of it, he was still holding Lysithea’s hand. Meanwhile Lysithea was giving Leonie an expression that was a mixture of complete horror and mortification.

“Um...am I interrupting something?” Leonie asked nervously, frowning at the awkward situation she found herself in.

“It's alright, say what you came to say.” Byleth said patiently.

“U-Um, right. One of our spies returned from the Imperial Capital. He has information on Enbarr's defenses and Claude wants the two of you present to discuss strategy.”

“Tell Claude we’ll be there right away.” Byleth said, managing to keep his voice completely steady, despite the position he was in.

“R-Right. We’ll see you there soon.” Leonie said nervously, quickly departing and shutting the door behind her.

Byleth sighed before turning his attention back towards Lysithea. They were alone again but...the moment was over. Leonie’s interruption had cleared their heads. Byleth wasn’t sure whether they should resume or—

“Let’s get going,” Lysithea said promptly, rising from her seat and making her way to the Cardinal’s Meeting Room.

“Yeah...” Byleth murmured, following her outside.

The atmosphere was...tense. What had just happened? 

...Well, obviously, he had just tried to kiss her. Lysithea marched ahead, her back towards him and her face hidden. Because of this, Byleth was unable to determine her mood. 

Was she angry with him? Angry that he allowed Leonie to interrupt their moment? Or perhaps she felt he had pushed himself onto her? Or maybe she was just embarrassed? If that was the case, then he could sympathize. Byleth was certainly feeling a little shy at the moment.

Knowing Lysithea, it was just as likely that she was simply putting their war responsibilities first. That was the sort of pragmatic thing Lysithea would do. Still, Byleth couldn’t just brush this off. He had very nearly shared his first kiss with a woman. Did this mean that he and Lysithea were...?

Byleth glanced ahead at Lysithea once again, who was still leading the way, her lovely white hair swaying in the gentle breeze, which carried the smell of her candy scented perfume. It was...intoxicating. Byleth shook his head, regaining his focus.

Did he love her? 

...

Yes. That much was clear. But Byleth loved all of his students, even if he wasn’t particularly good at showing it. 

And yet there was something different about Lysithea. Byleth just didn’t know how to describe it. The strange nervousness he sometimes felt in her presence. This desire to be close to her. The constant feeling that he ought to protect her...even when there was presently nothing to protect her from.

Byleth wanted to discuss these feelings with Lysithea, but couldn’t bring himself to do it. He was nervous, yes, but it wasn’t embarrassment that kept him from coming forward. It was genuine fear. All his life, Byleth had been told he lacked emotion. That he never expressed himself. He never smiled. Was he even capable of love? Was he truly human?

_ “You fool! How can you possibly be so dense?!” _

...is what Sothis would say if she were still with him. Or something along those lines. She would have certainly called him a fool. And that’s because he  _ was  _ a fool. He was human and  _ of course  _ he could feel love. And he  _ did  _ love Lysithea. He loved her intensely. Passionately. She was everything that Byleth admired. Brilliant, hardworking, with a will of steel, a heart of gold, and the most beautiful smile in all of Fodlan.

She was...what he wished he could be. He wished he could push himself the way Lysithea did, that he was half the genius his students believed him to be, but more than anything...Byleth wished he could express his emotions as clearly and vibrantly as Lysithea did.

This fear had been plaguing Byleth’s mind for some time, ever since they had lost Jeralt. Jeralt, who had worked so tirelessly to protect his son. And yet, despite all Jeralt did for him, Byleth had never once displayed affection towards his father. Not until his dying breath. Jeralt deserved better than that. And so did Lysithea. How could Byleth pursue a lasting relationship if he couldn’t even express his feelings towards her?

Lysithea continued her pace, keeping ahead of Byleth, not wanting him to see her face. The truth was...she was well aware of his feelings towards her. Back in the academy, things might have been different. She might have doubted herself, convinced herself that her feelings were unrequited. But she was older now. Wiser. She didn’t need Byleth to mentor her or explain everything anymore. In her mind, he was her closest friend and she knew him far better than he suspected.

And she knew that he loved her. Byleth didn’t need to tell her that. He didn’t need to display his affection with his face when he did so with his actions. Byleth cared about her, worried about her, and wanted her to be happy. That was why he was working relentlessly, tirelessly, all for Lysithea's sake. That was why the professor refused to give up on her, no matter how bleak the circumstance. And through all of this, all of this work and pressure, he was able to keep his emotions under control. Lysithea loved him with all her heart...

...Which was why, despite wanting to share her first kiss with him, she knew she mustn't do it. Now that her head was clear, she understood it would be wrong of her to lead him on like this. Unfair to give him false hope that they might one day share a future together. She admired the professor’s resolve, but Lysithea had to be honest with herself when it came to their chances.

More likely than not, they  _ wouldn’t _ be able to remove her Crests. They certainly wouldn't remove them in time, at least. Her body would fail her...and then she would die. Byleth would simply be another person to mourn her passing when she left him behind. Another person who suffered because she came into his life, along with her parents.

But that would pass. Tears would be wept for her and eventually the pain would fade. Hopefully they would just forget all about her and move on with their lives. Perhaps her mother would bear another child? One with a full life ahead of it and a future they could share with her parents. And perhaps...the professor would find another woman? He would love and cherish her unconditionally. He would teach her and she would teach him, just as it had been with Lysithea.

It was a comforting thought. Reassuring to know that the others would continue to live happy and meaningful lives, with or without her.

...So why, then, was she crying?


	18. Twin Flames Part 1 (Verdant Wind: 6/30)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having captured Enbarr, the Imperial Capital, the Alliance army invades the Imperial Palace to face Edelgard and put an end to the war once and for all. (A re-telling of the Conclusion of the Cross Roads)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter...ended up being much longer much longer than it had any right being. It was originally going to be 2-3 pages detailing the aftermath of the palace battle and maybe 8-10 pages fighting Edelgard. Instead, it's 45-50 pages going down a rabbit hole detailing the battle of the imperial palace and 30 pages fighting Edelgard. So uhhh...enjoy?
> 
> This will be a three part chapter. Part 1 and 2 are completed and Part 3 will be in a few days probably.

**Verdant Wind**

**Conclusion of the Crossing Roads**

**Day 30 of the Garland Moon**

The clanging of steel echoed across the corridors of the Imperial palace, coupled by the screams of fallen soldiers, and the roars of Demonic Beasts. The scent of blood and burning flesh filled the air. Corpses were littered across the floor as far as the eye could see. The war was reaching its conclusion and the imperials were fighting like cornered rats, to their very last breath.

“Hiiiiiiyah! Kyah! Come on, is that all you got?!” Catherine cried, mowing down another Demonic Beast with Thunderbrand. “Do you really think you can take on Thunder Catheri—”

“Grrraaargh!” A Demonic Beast leapt at Catherine's blind spot but, as it reared its head, Shamir expertly shot underneath its mask and into its eye. “RRROOOAAARRR!!!”

“Pay attention.” Shamir scolded sharply, taking careful aim at another Demonic Beast.

“Yah!” Catherine yelled, cutting down the Demonic Beast. “Heh, no need when I have such a reliable partner to watch my back.”

“You won’t save Rhea if you get yourself killed,” Shamir snapped, switching from her bow to throwing knives as the Demonic Beasts started closing in.

“I guess so.” Catherine smirked. “Looks like you’ll have to work even harder to keep me safe until then.”

“Not what I meant.” Shamir frowned

“Hyah!” Seteth struck at another Demonic Beast with the Spear of Assal, keeping close to Flayn while she tended to the wounds of injured soldiers. “Remain vigilant! Their reinforcements outnumber us greatly, but if we can hold our position we will prevail.”

“I swear, I’m going to rescue Lady Rhea even if it kills me!” Catherine declared, striking down several Imperial soldiers before moving on to her next beast.

“That would defeat the purpose,” Shamir said plainly.

“Quite right,” Seteth agreed. “We must all make it through this war. For Rhea’s sake as well as our own.”

_Thud...thud..._

“Damn...” Shamir muttered.

The ground quaked slightly as a new Demonic Beast entered the fray. It was bipedal and roughly three times as large as the standard Demonic Beast, fitted with an iron helmet and two large iron gauntlets.

“Archers, poison arrows!” Catherine bellowed.

“Knights, cover the archers!” Seteth added.

The Knights of Seiros were quick to surround the Giant Demonic Beast and began attacking at its heels while the archers pelted it with arrows. However...

“It’s no good, its skin is too strong!” Seteth shouted as each attack harmlessly bounced off the Giant Demonic Beast.

_WHAM!_

A massive arrow struck the Giant Demonic Beast in the chest, fired by a captured ballista being manned by Ignatz.

“Hahaha! Nice shot, Ignatz!” Raphael cheered, fighting off several imperial soldiers attempting to retake the ballista.

Unfortunately, even this didn’t seem to be enough. The Demonic Beast stumbled for a moment and let out a screech of pain, but the ballista’s arrow had merely bounced off just like all the others.

“GAAAHHH!!!” Several knights cried out as the Demonic Beast stomped on them and thrashed its tail wildly.

"Oh my, this...creature...is near impenetrable. Nothing we do is effective!" Flayn gasped in shock.

“I wouldn’t say 'nothing'.” Catherine frowned, glancing down to Thunderbrand.

“Don’t be stupid,” Shamir said sharply, placing an arm in front of Catherine to keep her from stepping forward. “One wrong move and you too will be crushed.”

“I know that, but we can’t just sit back and do nothing, Shamir!” Catherine exclaimed.

“I wasn’t planning to,” Shamir said coolly. “The rest of you keep it busy, I’ll blind it.”

“Is that even possible with the armor it’s wearing?” Seteth asked in disbelief.

“It is. I’ll just need time to study its movements,” Shamir said.

“Very well...” Seteth sighed. “I will lead the diversion. Flayn, you will keep me out of harm’s way should things turn dire.”

“Of course, Brother. I will do all that I can.” Flayn nodded.

“Knights of Seiros, fall in!” Seteth commanded.

* * *

_Whizz!_

Lysithea ducked just in time as a fireball went whizzing over her head and quickly countered with a Luna spell. A portal appeared above the mage's head, sucking him and several of his comrades into the void. However, a pair of imperial assassins managed to avoid this and quickly targeted Lysithea. Lysithea shot Miasma at both, hitting one, but was dodged by the other. He was coming in—too fast to cast another spell.

“Aaaarggghh!!!” The assassin cried out.

At the very last moment, Lysithea drew her sword, the blade glowing blue as she channeled her magical energy, and slashed at the assassin, knocking his sword out of his hand and dismembering him.

“You underestimated me,” Lysithea muttered, stabbing the assassin in the heart and returning to her volley of spells.

_“Something you need to bear in mind with swordplay is your size. You’re very small, Lysithea.”_

_“Yeah, yeah, I know. That means I’m harder to hit, but I also have a disadvantage when it comes to reach.”_

_“You also appear to be very feeble.”_

_“Gee thanks, Professor.”_

Lysithea recalled this conversation back at the academy. This was when Byleth had first taught her swordplay. Initially, she thought he was just teasing her, but the professor had actually been complimenting her...in his own weird way.

_“You dislike being treated as a child, but have you ever considered how useful it might be?”_

_“Uh, what do you mean by that?”_

_“Underestimating your opponents in battle is a grave error. One I expect you to take advantage of.”_

And although Lysithea had grown significantly since her days in the academy, she was still petite and rather delicate looking. Most of their enemies certainly weren’t expecting her to pull out a sword and slice them in half. There were two core principles to Lysithea’s swordplay: magic over muscle and the element of surprise.

By using a technique known as Soulblade, Lysithea could channel magic into her blade and rely on her raw magical power, rather than her feeble muscles, in swordplay. Due to her refined skills and magical prowess, Lysithea’s sword strikes could rival even the professor’s in terms of power.

Before long Byleth and Lysithea’s troops managed to rout the imperial forces, trapping them in a pincer attack, and soon after Byleth finished off their commander.

“Emperor...Edelgard...I...I...failed...” The Imperial Commander gasped as Byleth removed the Sword of the Creator impaled in his chest.

“...It’s over. Well done, everyone,” Byleth sighed, glancing to several of his troops. “Escort the prisoners outside the palace and into the city. Alois, Leonie, and the knights should have secured the area by now.”

“We should focus on healing the wounded too, while we still have time,” Lysithea added, addressing her mages.

The Ordelia mages nodded and Byleth’s knights saluted as they led the remaining imperials out of sight.

“Lysithea, what’s the current situation?” Byleth asked.

“Give me a moment,” Lysithea muttered, using her magic to scry through the palace.

“Perhaps we should start forming blockades, to prevent Edelgard from retreating,” Byleth considered.

“Hmm...that might not be necessary...” Lysithea frowned.

“Oh? What do you see?” Byleth asked.

“Many key areas seem to be blocked.”

“Blocked by what?”

“The ceiling has collapsed near all the main entrances and exits.” Lysithea informed him.

“So, she stemmed the flow of our soldiers.” Byleth murmured. “What’s the status of our reserve troops?”

"There are still a few unblocked windows, but it's not enough for an entire army to migrate into the palace."

"This tactic is a double edged sword. Strange that Edelgard would trap herself with us."

“That can only mean she’s held a large number of troops reserved in the palace.” Lysithea reasoned.

“And what is the status of the others?” Byleth asked, placing a hand to his chin.

“Ignatz has succeeded in capturing the eastern ballista. He’s assisting the Knights of Seiros in their fight against the Demonic Beasts. I...think Shamir blinded one of the larger ones.” Lysithea informed him. “Meanwhile Claude and the Alliance troops are advancing towards the western entrance to the throne room.”

"Lorenz was leading the Alliance reserve troops. He won't be able to provide support until Alois and the knights clear a way with explosives." Byleth murmured thoughtfully. "But what caused these collapses? Demonic Beasts?"

“No. Not that I can see anyway.” Lysithea frowned. “And there's so sign of imperial activity either. How odd, I wonder what could have caused those cave ins?”

“Alert the other scrying mages what’s happening.” Byleth instructed her. “Inform me if you receive any updates.”

“Leave it to me--”

_CRASH!_

“My lady!” one of the Ordelia mages cried out.

The area around them began to quake, causing everyone to lose their footing. Lysithea tripped and Byleth began to stumble. Before either of them could react, the ceiling began to collapse, caving in and crushing the two of them—

~~~

“—that I can see anyway.” Lysithea repeated, as the flow of time reversed. “And there's so sign of imperial activity either. How odd, I wonder what could—”

“Everyone get back!” Byleth abruptly shouted.

“What are you—” Lysithea started, but before she could finish, the room began quaking again.

_CRASH!_

Having braced himself, Byleth managed to keep his footing and tackled Lysithea out of harm’s way. Not a moment too soon, for shortly after the ceiling collapsed again, leaving a massive pile of rubble that seperated Byleth and Lysithea from their troops. Amid the rubble was a flaming chunk of earth.

“Meteor...” Lysithea murmured, staring at Byleth with a confused expression. “Professor, thank you for saving me, but...how could you possibly have known this would happen?”

“Can you blast through this debris?” Byleth asked, not addressing her question.

“...Yes, I can. But it will take some time.” Lysithea explained with a small frown.

She didn’t very much like being ignored, but there _were_ more pressing issues at the moment. First and foremost, they needed to reunite with their troops! Lysithea prepared a Miasma spell, but just as she was about to fire it, she sensed another surge of magical energy.

“Professor, look out!” Lysithea cried as second Meteor spell rained down upon them.

This meteor came flying through the hole in the ceiling left by the last meteor. Lysithea quickly redirected her miasma spell towards the incoming chunk of earth, hitting it and causing the meteor to explode on contact. Byleth quickly jumped in, wrapping his overcoat around the two of them and pulled Lysithea away as the room filled with ash and smoke.

“Never mind, we can’t stay here,” Byleth said in a muffled voice. “Can you sense the source of these attacks?”

“It’s that— _cough cough_ —it’s that way, Professor!” Lysithea rasped, pointing northward.

“Let’s go then.” Byleth said, taking Lysithea’s hand and sprinting in the direction of the caster.

* * *

_Boom!_

While Byleth and Lysithea dealt with the collapsing ceiling, a small tremor was felt around the palace. During this time Claude, Hilda, and their troops were fleeing from a battalion of imperial soldiers. The tremor was small but unexpected, causing some troops from both sides to trip. It wasn’t what Claude planned, but this was as good an opportunity as any to put a scheme into action.

“Hilda, now!” Claude yelled.

“Got it!” Hilda said, turning around and charging towards the disoriented imperial forces.

Freikugel glowed red and was suddenly ablaze with fire as Hilda smashed it into the floor near the imperials. The stone surrounding Freikugel turned hot, molten and began to melt. Hilda jumped back just in time as the floor gave way and the imperial troops fell to the lower floor.

“Archers!” Claude called out.

On his order, the Riegan archers quickly took aim and began to pelt the defenseless imperials with a volley of arrows. It wasn’t long before their screams were silenced.

“Another perfect scheme.” Claude smirked.

“That was amazing, Claude!” Hilda cheered. “But how did you get everything to quake like that?”

“I didn’t.” Claude muttered grimly, placing a hand to his chin before turning to an Alliance mage. “Can you identify the cause of those tremors?”

“Yes, Duke Riegan.” The mage nodded as another small tremor was felt. “These tremors are the result of a magical attack being targeted towards your professor as well as Lady Lysithea.”

“A magical attack, you say.” Claude frowned. “And what’s their status?”

“Due to a collapse of the palace’s infrastructure, they have been separated from their troops and are currently making their way towards the source of these attacks.” The mage explained.

“Ooh, if the two of them have been separated they must be in trouble!” Hilda worried. “Claude, we need to help them!”

“Are they injured?” Claude asked.

“No, Your Grace.” The mage responded.

“Then there’s nothing we can do but press forward and have faith in our allies.” Claude decided.

“What are your orders, sir?” A Riegan archer asked.

“Our next objective is the throne room. The plan is to surround the emperor and her bodyguards in a four-way pincer attack.” Claude explained. “Once we arrive at the western entrance, I’ll need each of you to scale the palace and make your way to the back wall of the throne room.” 

Claude pointed to a small group of his best snipers. 

“Once the fighting starts, you will begin a surprise attack and take out the imperials from behind. Shamir and her archers will join you and you will take orders from her.”

“And the Goneril soldiers will cover the rest of the archers on the western flank, right?” Hilda added.

“Correct.” Claude nodded. “Meanwhile, the Knights of Seiros will back us up from the eastern flank. And finally, our reserve troops will fight from the main entrance. Nobody is to attack until we receive the order from Teach, understood?”

The troops saluted in unison.

“Then let’s move out.”

* * *

_CRASH!_

...

_CRASH!_

...

_CRASH!_

Cave in after cave in, the thundering crashes of the collapsing ceiling could be heard all over the palace, punctuated only by the echoing sound of Byleth and Lysithea’s footsteps as they made their way to the caster, moving in sync to prevent being seperated.

“This way!” Lysithea shouted, pointing towards the left corridor.

_CRASH!_

Byleth was able to pull her back, just in time as another portion of the ceiling collapsed, blocking the corridor ahead.

“Looks like we’re going this way instead.” Byleth said, pointing to the free corridor while Lysithea huffed in annoyance.

The two continued sprinting towards their destination. So far, they hadn’t run into any imperial interference. Surely the noise would have attracted soldiers, wouldn’t it? This would be an ideal time for an ambush or perhaps...

“We’re getting close to the throne room!” Lysithea called out.

_CRASH!_

Once again, the ceiling collapsed in front of a corridor, but this time Lysithea was able to blast the falling debris before it could crush Byleth.

“Thanks...” Byleth muttered, following Lysithea as she picked another corridor. “But I have a feeling we’re walking into a trap.”

“You’re probably right,” Lysithea admitted. “But do we really have another choice?”

“No. So keep your guard up.”

Lysithea nodded and Byleth continued to follow her lead as she tracked the source of magic, switching course as certain hallways and corridors were blocked. They made a sharp turn around one corner when—

“Tripwire,” Byleth called out, his voice loud but his pitch remaining at a monotone, despite the danger they were in.

Lysithea paused just in time when—

_CRASH!_

—the ceiling came crashing down just behind the trap. Had Lysithea fallen over that tripwire just now, there was no doubt she would have been crushed.

“Y-Yikes!” Lysithea exclaimed. “One more step and—”

“No time to talk,” Byleth interrupted, taking her hand.

As usual, the professor was unfazed. Always keeping a cool head, even during the most stressful of situations. Clearly, there was still much she had to learn. The two continued making their way through several more corridors and hallways, occasionally encountering more trip wires, which Byleth would preemptively burn away with flame magic. These traps were becoming more frequent.

“Could Petra be behind this?” Lysithea suggested, as they turned another corner.

“No. These are too obviously placed.” Byleth frowned. “And besides...Edelgard would know better than to send Petra after me.”

Lysithea simply nodded, Byleth didn’t need to explain. Everyone knew that the professor had a unique talent for sensing danger and was almost impossible to sneak up on. Having fought with him numerous times, Lysithea was aware that this ability was hardly natural and therefore likely a result of his Crest. In any case, it meant a stealthy fighter like Petra wouldn’t be well placed against the likes of their professor. That meant the ones they would be facing were…

“I see them.” Byleth said as they finally reached the Great Hall.

At the end of the Great Hall was a massive double door, sealed shut and no doubt the main entrance to the throne room. Guarding the door was a massive battalion of imperial soldiers, led by three familiar faces. Dorothea, alongside Professors Hanneman and Manuela.

_CRASH!_

The corridor behind Byleth and Lysithea collapsed.

“No turning back now...” Lysithea muttered quietly as several imperial mages sent a volley of fireballs their way.

Byleth quickly activated the Sword of the Creator, turning it into a whip and destroying all of the fireballs with a sweeping horizontal slash. Although it was able to cancel out the magical attacks, he was still too far out of range to reach the imperial troops.

“Ready, Lysithea?” 

“Let’s do this.” Lysithea affirmed.

She didn’t need any instructions. Lysithea placed her hand on Byleth’s back, just as he retracted his sword and prepared to swing again. The next moment, Byleth vanished and reappeared in front of the imperial troops. Before any of them could react, Byleth channeled his magical energy into the sword and swung again, causing the whip-like sword to lash out with a flurry of intense power.

“ARRGGHHH!!!” The imperial’s screams echoed across the room.

Those that weren’t cut down were pushed back by the raw energy emanating from the sword, including Dorothea and Hanneman. Byleth, knowing he couldn’t afford to hesitate, swung again. This time, however, Manuela jumped in the way and, wielding a Levin Sword, managed to snag the whip around the blade. The next moment, she channeled electricity through her Levin Sword and into the Sword of the Creator, electrocuting Byleth.

“Argh!” Byleth gasped, but kept his grip firm, knowing better than to discard his weapon.

Manuela continued shocking Byleth until one of Lysithea’s Miasma blasts forced her away.

“Stand down.” Byleth said, grunting through the pain. “If you surrender now, I promise I won’t kill you.”

“Oh my, I see your confidence hasn’t diminished after all these years.” Manuela chuckled. “I’d even say you’ve become a bit arrogant.”

“I’m afraid we have you outnumbered, Professor,” Hanneman added. “Perhaps it is _you_ who ought to consider surrendering.”

“The Empire is cornered. I don’t want to kill any more former comrades.” Byleth said, readying his blade.

“Then just give up already. Please!” Dorothea pleaded. “You and Edie were friends. She doesn’t want to fight you...and you don’t want to fight her, do you Professor?”

“...If showing pity would put my allies in danger, I will not hesitate to kill her.” Byleth sighed, echoing Claude.

“I don’t understand, why are you fighting?!” Dorothea demanded. “Edie only desires a world where Crests don’t determine our value. Where commoners like me won’t be stepped on by the noble elite. How could you possibly oppose that?!”

Byleth lowered his head in a moment of hesitation before responding.

“I need to see Rhea again. I have questions for her and...” Byleth glanced towards Lysithea, who was still on the other side of the hall. “I have students I need to protect.”

“Even if that means turning your blade on your other students?” Hanneman frowned. “And your former colleagues?”

“...I suppose so.”

“So be it, then. There is no turning back now, Professor.” Hanneman said sternly. “For the sake of a Crestless world, if I must die for this new Empire...then I do so without regret.”

Byleth immediately ducked as Hanneman and Dorothea cast Thoron and Manuela followed up with a blast of lightning from her Levin Sword. The armored soldiers quickly surrounded their three commanders while the imperial archers took aim at Byleth.

Trusting in Lysithea to watch his back, Byleth ignored the archers and instead focused on the armored soldiers, his sword slicing through their steel chest plates like butter as he cut each of them down.

The archers were heard screaming in terror as Lysithea blasted them with spells. So far, so good. Lysithea could outrange all the imperial troops, which meant that as long as Byleth could keep Hanneman and Dorothea from casting meteor, she would be safe. The imperial troops seemed to be aware of this, however, and continued placing themselves between their commanders and Byleth.

Byleth channeled magical energy into his blade once again, prepared to cut his way through the imperial troops with Subline Heaven. Before he could, however, flames suddenly gathered at his feet, forcing him to dive out of the way to avoid the impending explosion. The one who had just cast Ragnarok was Hanneman, and as a result he was left exposed. Before Byleth could take advantage of this however—

“Arrgghh!!!” Lysithea’s scream echoed across the Great Hall.

Byleth spun around, his heart sinking as Dorothea stabbed Lysithea in the back.

It didn’t take long for Byleth to realize what had happened. The true aim of the imperial soldiers hadn’t been to guard Dorothea and Manuela. Their goal was to _hide_ them, so neither Byleth nor Lysithea would see Manuela warping her protégé behind Lysithea for a sneak attack.

Lysithea fell to the floor as Dorothea withdrew her blade and—

~~~

—The screams of imperial archers filled Byleth’s ears as time reversed and Lysithea dealt with them once again. Byleth couldn’t use the Divine Pulse in quick succession, which meant he had to act swiftly. There wasn’t enough time to warn Lysithea and they were too far apart for Byleth to physically pull her out of harm's way. With no other options, Byleth shot the Nosferatsu spell directly at Lysithea.

Thankfully, Lysithea was able to spot this attack. Her eyes widened in surprise as she immediately rolled out of the way. Dorothea appeared in the next moment, stabbing at the spot where Lysithea once stood, but only managed to strike air. Dorothea stood dumbfounded for a moment, before getting hit in the face by the Nosferatsu spell and knocked backwards.

* * *

“Yah!” Seteth cried, poking at the Giant Demonic Beast with his spear.

Unfortunately, even the Spear of Assal wasn’t enough to pierce the monster’s hide. However, it was enough to hurt the beast—or at least annoy it to some extent, for the creature was now turning its attention to Seteth. The Demonic Beast focused its right eye steadily on him, the left having already been pierced by one of Shamir’s arrows.

“Catherine, now!” Seteth called.

“Ha! Bring it on!” Catherine shouted, charging towards the Demonic Beast’s left side and slashing Thunderbrand into its heel.

Where all other weapons had failed, Thunderbrand finally succeeded in piercing the Demonic Beast’s hide, causing it to howl in pain.

“RRROOOAAARRR!!!” the Demonic Beast screeched as it tried to locate its attacker.

Catherine circled around the beast, keeping herself within its blind spot and continued attacking its legs. After a few hits, however, the Demonic Beast apparently decided it had had enough and spun around, blindly swatting her with its tail.

“Oof!” Catherine grunted as she was swept off her feet.

“Flayn, now!” Seteth shouted.

The raging monster quickly located Catherine and tried to stamp down on her. Just before getting crushed, however, Catherine suddenly vanished and reappeared next to Flayn.

“What the—oh! Heh, thanks for that.” Catherine chuckled. “Thought he had me for sure.”

“Are you quite alright?” Flayn asked, her brow furrowed in concern. “I can heal you, if necessary.”

“Nah, I’m fine. It’ll take more than _that_ to bring me down.” Catherine smirked.

“Archers aim for the Demonic Beast’s helmet! Knights, engage with the imperial soldiers!” Seteth commanded. “Shamir, can you take out the monster’s other eye?”

“With enough time, sure,” Shamir said, preparing another arrow.

“Seteth, what are you hoping to accomplish sending our archers after that thing?” Catherine questioned. “You know I’m the only one who’s capable of injuring it.”

“Even if we cannot harm the beast, attacking its helmet and creating noise should distract it.” Seteth explained. “We are still counting on you and Shamir to finish it off. And please, allow Flayn to heal your wound before charging off again.”

“What, this thing?” Catherine scoffed, examining a cut across her arm. “This is just a flesh wound. I’ve been through worse.”

“Catherine, you can’t—” Seteth started.

_BANG!_

Ignatz shot another massive ballista arrow at the Demonic Beast, hitting it directly on the helmet and sending it reeling back.

“Oh! Looks like that’s our cue, let’s go!” Catherine yelled.

The Demonic Beast roared in fury, stamping its feet and thrashing its tail in a tantrum, before charging at the ballista.

“Woah! Look out, Ignatz!” Raphael shouted, lifting Ignatz off his feet and carrying him away just in time.

“AAAGGGHHH!!!!”

The screams of knights and imperials alike filled the room as the Demonic Beast rammed through all of them, not caring who was friend or foe, and began smashing the ballista to bits, like an angry, overgrown child.

“Hiiiyaaah!” Catherine yelled, as she rushed up from behind and, with one clean slice, managed to cut off the beast’s tail.

“GRRRAAAAARRRGGGHHHHH!!!” The Demonic Beast screeched in pain, quickly snapping around and trying to crush Catherine with its fist.

Catherine managed to roll away just in time, but the beast quickly followed up by slamming its other fist down before she could retaliate. Once again, Catherine disappeared just in time as Flayn cast Rescue and brought Catherine to her side.

“Phew, that was a close one!” Cathine laughed. “You know, this is the second time you’ve saved my hide today. It's rare that anyone can do that even once.”

“P-Please be prudent...” Flayn panted. “Using such a spell repeatedly can be...quite...tiring.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Catherine nodded. “Still, you have potential. You really ought to consider joining the knights.”

“Absolutely not!” Seteth hissed. “And Catherine, you can’t afford to be so reckless! What would I tell Rhea if you fell in battle?”

“Yeah, yeah, I can’t go dying in my efforts to save Lady Rhea...” Catherine sighed. “I already got the lecture from Shamir and—wait...Shamir!”

With Catherine having eluded its grasp once again, the Demonic Beast began to hiss and growl. Banging its fists on the floor angrily, the creature gazed out at the others, looking for a new target. The beast set its sights on Shamir and charged mindlessly towards its new prey.

“Not good...” Shamir muttered with a grimace.

Shamir’s strengths lied in stealth and long-range combat. She was skilled, but she wasn’t suited for head-on battles like this. That sort of thing was usually handled by her partner, Catherine, or her student, Cyril, while Shamir provided support. At the angle the Demonic Beast was coming from, she couldn’t land a clean shot on its right eye and, due its size and speed, she couldn’t avoid the creature. Only one option remained...Shamir stood perfectly still.

“RRROOOAAARRR!!! RRAAAWWWRRR!!!” The Giant Demonic Beast closed in—

“SHAMIR!” Catherine cried out.

—and smashed its fists where Shamir stood. However, Shamir, just like Catherine disappeared at the very last moment and was safely pulled to Flayn’s location.

“You took your time,” Shamir said coolly.

“A-Apologies...!” Flayn gasped, breathlessly. “I...was still... _hah_...recovering!”

“Noted.”

“What were you thinking, just standing there like that?!” Catherine scolded angrily.

“Fleeing was pointless. The beast could outrun me. Trying to escape might have interfered with Flayn’s aim,” Shamir stated plainly. "Now please, get ahold of yourself. I'm fine."

“I was worried...” Catherine sighed. “I thought—”

“Now isn’t the time, Catherine.” Shamir reminded her. “Let’s focus on the battle ahead.”

“Right...”

_Twang!_

A distant bow string was heard, followed by a roar of pain

RROOOAAAWWWRRR!!!” The Demonic Beast stumbled backwards with a hand on the right side of its helmet, having lost its other eye.

The archer who had blinded the beast was none other than...Ignatz.

“I...I did it?!” Ignatz shouted excitedly, surprised at his own competence.

“Hahaha, look at you, Ignatz!” Raphael cheered. “Now’s our chance!”

“Knights of Seiros, attack!” Seteth commanded.

As the Demonic Beast stumbled backwards, the Knights of Seiros and the archers pursued it, attacking with everything they had. None of them could put a dent in it, but together they were steadily pushing it back until...

“Hurrghaaah!” Raphael roared, running full speed towards the Demonic Beast, tackling its legs and using his impressive strength to finally knock the creature off its feet.

“YAH!” Catherine cried, following suit and taking advantage of the beast’s moment of weakness.

Catherine leapt into the air, stabbing Thunderbrand into the Demonic Beast’s neck. She then slid down its body with her sword, cutting all the way down to its stomach, splitting it open and spilling its entrails onto the palace floor. With the horrific monster finally defeated, the Knights of Seiros and their allies let out a cheer.

“We won!” Ignatz stammered excitedly.

“We did. Nice shot back there.” Shamir replied with a smirk.

“Retreat! Retreat!” One of the imperial commanders cried, as he and the others fled.

“Heh, looks like they’re not too eager to fight us without their pet.” Catherine laughed.

“Should we go chase after them?” Raphael asked.

“Pursuing them would be ill-advisable.” Seteth said, shaking his head. “We are needed at the throne room. That said, Flayn, would you kindly contact Claude and the professor? Please inform them that the imperial troops have fled and may try to ambush them.”

“Of course, Brother.” Flayn nodded, attempting to scry the palace. “Hmmm...I am unable to contact the mage stationed with Claude. And the professor is...oh...oh my!”

“What is it, Flayn?!” Seteth asked sharply.

“D-Did something happen to them?” Ignatz wondered nervously.

* * *

“F-For...Adrestia...” An imperial commander gasped after being shot in the neck by Claude.

“Reinforcements are on the way! Fall back!” Another imperial soldier cried, leading the remaining troops away from the fight.

“Ugh, reinforcements?” Hilda moaned. “There are _way_ more soldiers here than we anticipated. I’m exhausted, Claude!”

“Agreed.” Claude nodded. “The palace is more heavily fortified than I would have expected. I’m starting to suspect that all of this is a trap.”

“Huh? Wait, are you saying Edelgard lost the fight in Enbarr on _purpose_?” Hilda exclaimed.

“In a sense.” Claude frowned. “I think she kept most of her troops in reserve, all in preparation for when we stormed the palace. By separating us from the bulk of our forces, she’s hoping to sever the head of the resistance and turn this war around.”

“Those poor soldiers...do you really think Edelgard would just sacrifice them all?” Hilda wondered.

“Only one way to find out.” Claude said, turning to the Alliance mage. “I need you to scry the throne room and tell me how many reserve troops are waiting for us inside.”

“Yes, Duke Riegan.” The Alliance mage bowed.

“Now that the fighting is over, why don't we take a break?” Hilda pleaded.

“As much as I’d love to catch my breath, we need to keep moving.” Claude decided with more decisive focus, continuing his march in the direction of the throne room. “Prior to our invasion, our allies blocked Enbarr off from the rest of the Empire. However, they’re still receiving aerial reinforcements. If we wait too long, we’ll be completely outnumbered.”

“Ugh, OK fine...” Hilda grumbled, following after him with the rest of the troops.

“Your Grace, the professor has reached the Great Hall. He is engaged with imperial forces just outside the throne room,” The Alliance mage informed Claude.

“Has he and Lysithea reunited with their troops?” Claude asked.

“No, Your Grace.”

“I see..." Claude frowned. "And how many troops are gathered in the throne room?”

...

The Alliance mage didn’t respond.

“Can you see inside of it?” Claude pressed.

...

Still no response.

“Hey, are you—”

“Duke Riegan!” One of the soldiers shouted.

“Woah!” Hilda gasped.

Claude spun around to find that the Alliance mage was laying face down on the floor, a dart sticking out of his neck.

“Stay alert, we’re being ambushed!” Claude called out.

Upon hearing this, the troops readied themselves in formation, with the armored Goneril soldiers protecting the Riegan archers, as well as Claude and Hilda.

“Well. This is a predicament...” Claude muttered.

There was no sign of an enemy. Whoever this assassin was, they had killed their mage under everyone’s nose and without making a sound. Claude had dealt with assassins before, even when he was young, and yet whoever they were facing had somehow managed to avoid being detected by him as well. That was the truly scary part.

Claude had trained his body to develop an immunity to poison and this immunity was further strengthened by the power of his Crest. However, whatever poison this assassin had used managed to kill their mage instantly. Not even a cry of anguish before he died. Because of this, Claude couldn’t say for certain if he’d be able to handle something so potent. On top of all that, this mage had been the only person among his troops who could establish contact with Teach and the others. With his death, they had lost their one line of communication. And with Teach occupied, they had no central commander who could give orders to their forces.

Suddenly two Riegan archers collapsed, likewise without making a sound. Claude’s eyes quickly examined the darts lodged in their necks...based on the position, these darts came from two different directions.

“Troops, spread out!” Claude ordered.

There was no doubt about it. They were dealing with multiple enemies. Several skilled assassins. Moving in blindly was not ideal, but they couldn’t afford to remain sitting ducks and get picked off either. And unfortunately, the only one who would have been able to sense the enemy's location—the mage—was dead.

“Stay back, Hilda,” Claude warned, as Hilda moved closer to him.

“W-What?! No way, we need to stick together, Claude!” Hilda whined.

“They’ll be targeting the two of us. The last thing we want is to make their job easier,” Claude insisted.

“Oh... I don’t like this at all.”

Three more archers collapsed in silence. Everyone was getting tense. Suddenly Claude’s ears perked up.

“Woah!” Claude gasped, jumping away just in time as a dart came whizzing towards him.

Claude frantically glanced at the area where the dart had come from. Still no sign of an enemy. Suddenly, Claude was forced to leap back again, his ears just barely detecting the sound of a whizzing dart. There was still no sign of his assailant, but upon picking up and examining the dart, Claude could recognize a familiarity in its crude design. These weren’t ordinary assassins and Claude now had a better idea of what he was looking for. And sure enough...

_Whizz!_

“There you are!” Claude cried, dodging another dart and quickly shooting an arrow at one of the palace’s pillars.

“ARGH!” A man’s voice rang out as Failnaught’s arrow pierced its target.

The shooter fell from the pillar he had climbed on. And although his skin was painted grey to camouflage with the palace stone, it was clear from his attire and hairstyle that this man did not come from Fodlan.

“Woah! Who’s _that_?!” Hilda exclaimed.

“An elite warrior from Brigid.” Claude scowled. “In addition to being excellent climbers, they’re known to use camouflage for their ambushes, so be careful.”

_Whizz!_

_Whizz!_

Two more archers collapsed from the darts, however one of the Riegan snipers immediately noticed the attacker and retaliated.

“Ugh!” One of the Brigid warriors swore in his own language as the sniper’s arrow managed to hit his foot.

“Don’t kill him!” Claude warned as the sniper prepared another arrow. “The people of Brigid are known for developing strong bonds with their fellow warriors. We can use him as a hostage to lure the others out.”

“You are being too late.” A woman's voice said softly in his ear.

Before Claude could react, he felt Petra’s right arm around his neck and her dagger close to his back. Instead of the Brigid Warrior, it was Claude who was being held hostage.

“So, you managed to sneak up on me. I’ve got to admit that’s quite a feat,” Claude said lightly, trying to hide how nervous he really was.

“You will be giving me the Heroes Relics,” Petra demanded past him towards Hilda, as one of the Brigid warriors removed Failnaught and the Sword of Begalta from Claude.

With Claude captive, the troops turned to Hilda, their only remaining commander, waiting for her decision.

“I...” Hilda paused nervously, she hated being put in responsible situations like this; it felt like whatever choice she made, she’d be letting Claude or the other soldiers down.

“You will surrender your Relic now or he will not be breathing!” Petra ordered.

“OK, OK! Here!” Hilda exclaimed, frantically throwing Freikugel over to Petra. “You got both our Relics now, will you let him go?”

Petra didn't respond to this. Instead, she turned to the other Brigid warriors and said something in a foreign tongue. Claude frowned at this. Being bilingual was a significant advantage for Petra. She could understand the orders Claude gave to his troops, but he couldn’t understand Petra’s native tongue at all. It was quite likely that she was strategizing with her troops on how to keep Claude from resisting. Even if he came up with a scheme to escape, it was possible that Petra already had a counter to this.

“You must be walking in the direction of the emperor’s room nowm” Petra ordered cooly, keeping her dagger close to Claude’s back. “And you will be turning yourself over to Lady Edelgard.”


	19. Twin Flames Part 2 (Verdant Wind: 6/30)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having captured Enbarr, the Imperial Capital, the Alliance army invades the Imperial Palace to face Edelgard and put an end to the war once and for all. (A re-telling of the Conclusion of the Cross Roads)

**Verdant Wind**

**Conclusion of the Crossing Roads**

**Day 30 of the Garland Moon**

_Swish! Swoosh! Clang!_

While Byleth continued to fight Hanneman, Manuela, and the majority of the imperial troops, Dorothea had recovered from her former professor's magic attack and was engaged with Lysithea in a sword fight. Lysithea’s sword glowed with the blue aura of Soulblade while Dorothea’s glowed with the red aura of Hexblade, a variant of the magical sword technique.

Clashing blades with Lysithea just now only highlighted a demoralizing truth...the woman Dorothea was fighting was much more powerful than she was. Lysithea’s magic was potent and she had nearly disarmed Dorothea with that last blow. It was just as Edie said when they were covering the abilities of the professor and his allies.

_“Finally, there’s Lysithea. She leads an infantry unit alongside the professor, acting as his second. Despite her frail appearance, she is quite capable. In truth, she is likely the most powerful mage you will ever meet.”_

That much was clear. Even when engaging her in a sword battle, Dorothea could see that she was outmatched. Not only was Lysithea more magically powerful, but she was also faster, more precise with her movements, knew more spells, and was probably more intelligent too. On top of that, Lysithea had been trained personally by the professor. Dorothea could immediately recognize that Lysithea’s sword style was a magical adaptation of her teacher’s. It was an aggressive form that relied heavily on power attacks and was interwoven with quick spell casting.

However, what was most demoralizing for Dorothea at the moment was the fact that their trap for Lysithea had failed.

_“I’m going to be completely honest with you, Dorothea. If you face her in direct combat, you will surely perish. I only say this out of concern, because you are my valued friend and I don’t wish to lose you.”_

_“Then what should we do, Edie? You make it seem as though she’s unbeatable.”_

_“She’s not, I assure you. She has her weaknesses. I suggest taking her out through ambush and using the rest of your forces to overwhelm the professor.”_

Their plan had been crafted by Hubie, the expert in assassination. He had considered everything, from the professor’s fighting style to Lysithea’s spells. Step one was to draw the duo away from their troops. Step two had been luring them to an enclosed environment where they would be trapped and then picked apart by the Empire’s overwhelming numbers. Step three was separating Lysithea from the professor.

_Swoosh! Clank!_

Separating the two of them was a crucial step because, according to Edie, it was nearly impossible to ambush the professor. It was generally believed that his Crest gave him an unparalleled sense of awareness when it came to his surroundings. And as long as the professor was watching over her, they couldn’t hope to sneak up on Lysithea either.

Just as Hubie predicted, Lysithea warped her professor to engage in close quarters combat, while she provided support from a long-ranged distance. That was when Dorothea and Manuela had used their troops for cover, hiding until Manuela could warp Dorothea directly behind Lysithea for a sneak attack. Once Lysithea was dealt with, they would overwhelm the professor with sheer numbers.

The plan had been well thought out and the three of them had executed it flawlessly...and yet it still failed. Somehow, miraculously, the professor had seen right through it and countered it _perfectly_. It just didn’t make sense! How could the professor have possibly predicted what they would do? Manuela had only recently learned the Warp spell for the purpose of this plan! He couldn't have known about it.

_Swish! Swish! Clink!_

No, this wasn’t just acute awareness. This was something else entirely. Something unnatural. Mind reading? Omniscience? Maybe the professor could see the future?

_“I cut this path, and I will see it through to the end. Following me is akin to pointing a sword to the goddess herself.”_

When Edie had said that, Dorothea had merely thought she was just trying to be dramatic. The Emperor did have a way of making things sound theatrical, much like an opera character. However, she could see now that Edie had been quite serious. It made sense, after all. What did they say back in the monastery? That the professor had received divine power from the goddess herself? Clearly that wasn’t just talk.

The professor was the Champion of the Goddess, sent to dispatch Edie, Hubie, and all of Dorothea’s friends. And Dorothea would die right alongside them. All because she believed in the world Edie was creating. All because she didn’t want to see commoners trampled on, simply because they lacked a Crest.

...Curse the Crests. And curse the goddess! No, she refused to go down without a fight! She didn’t need to defeat Lysithea herself. She just needed to keep Lysithea occupied so that she wouldn’t be able to assist the professor.

_Swish! Swish! Swoosh!_

Lysithea slashed twice at Dorothea, before attempting to stab her. Dorothea was able to gracefully dodge all three attacks. Lysithea continued the offensive, adding in quick Miasma blasts, but Dorothea noticed her opponent was starting to pant. Yes, Lysithea did have a weakness. Two of them, actually. And if Dorothea could exploit these, perhaps she could shift the tide of battle.

_“If the worst comes to pass and you are forced into direct combat, then keep this in mind: For all of her talents, Lysithea is physically weak.”_

_“I guess that makes sense. I mean that’s not unusual for a mage.”_

_“True, but even compared to other mages, she is especially small and frail. She is a gifted girl to be sure, but I believe the professor keeps her close to protect her. It is because of her fragility. If you are to defeat her, Dorothea, you must exploit this weakness.”_

On one hand, Edie may have overstated how small Lysithea was. In fact, looking at her now, Lysithea seemed to be at _least_ as tall as the Emperor herself, having grown significantly since their academy years. On the other hand, there was no denying that Lysithea was more fatigued than Dorothea. If she could just draw out this battle and wear down Lysithea...then maybe she stood a chance.

_Swoosh!_

Dorothea leapt back as Lysithea thrusted her sword and retaliated, using her greater reach, in response. She soon realized, however, that this was a mistake. Lysithea parried the blow, knocking Dorothea’s arm back, and used her free hand to send a Miasma spell at Dorothea’s chest.

"Agh!"

Dorothea toppled over and quickly scrambled to her feet, before just barely diving out of the way in time to avoid Lysithea’s Hades spell. Dorothea ran in a circle around Lysithea, dodging her various Miasma blasts, and countering one of them with her own lightning spell before closing in and re-engaging the sword fight.

Trying to exploit Lysithea’s weakness was easier said than done. Lysithea was certainly aware of her physical shortcomings and knew how to cover them. One of the drawbacks of using a magic-based sword technique such as Soulblade or Hexblade was that while they were offensively potent, they couldn’t be used to block attacks.

To remedy this, Lysithea had trained with Catherine as well as Byleth and incorporated bits of Catherine’s offensive technique into her own style. Instead of blocking incoming attacks like the professor, Lysithea focused on parrying them instead. This allowed her to both defend herself and quickly overwhelm her foe.

Lysithea’s fighting style focused heavily on momentum. There was no wasted movement. Everything she did placed herself at a greater advantage and furthered her position. She had trained tirelessly and honed her skills so that she could kill her enemies swiftly. The fight would be over before they ever had the chance to tire her out.

Whereas most enemies would be dead, however, Dorothea had managed to stay alive because she too had inherited her style of swordplay from her teacher. Manuela was a healer, which meant her main priority in battle was staying alive and healing others. Therefore her technique revolved around gracefully dodging all incoming attacks and picking the right moment to strike. In that sense, Dorothea was fortunate. This was the best possible counter to Lysithea’s aggressive style of swordplay.

It was certainly an advantage for Dorothea, but picking a window of opportunity to attack was proving to be very difficult. Any attack with her blade could be parried. She had already clashed blades with Lysithea twice...and both times Dorothea's sword had been nearly knocked out of her hand.

Going on the full defensive or relying on magic wasn’t an option either. If Lysithea wasn’t engaged in close quarters combat, she would simply retreat and fall back on her long-range spells. Not only did Lysithea know more spells, but she had a Hero's Relic too, which meant long-range combat simply wasn’t an option for Dorothea.

The best she could do was to try and keep this up for as long as possible. If Lysithea couldn’t be worn down, then perhaps Hanneman and Manuela would defeat the professor first.

* * *

With their leader being held hostage, the Alliance troops had no choice but to continue marching in silence, alongside their Brigid escorts. Hilda and Claude tailed the troops, the latter of whom was still being held at knife point, with Petra’s right hand holding a dagger to Claude’s back and her left hand firmly placed on Claude’s shoulder.

Claude wracked his brain, desperately trying to find a solution out of this dire situation. They were being led to the throne room and if Edelgard got her hands on Claude and Hilda, she would certainly use the two of them as leverage to get to Teach. And more likely than not...it would work. Teach cared about his students more than anything—more than himself, probably. If it was a choice between him and his students, he’d slit his own throat in a heartbeat.

That couldn’t be allowed to happen, but unfortunately, Claude was out of options. Petra had completely disarmed both himself and Hilda. He paused for a moment. No, she had _mostly_ disarmed them. Claude suddenly realized he was carrying one of the Brigid darts in his pocket. It was laced with poison. If he could use it on Petra—but no, she’d never give him the chance.

The other option...was to use the dart on himself. If he were dead, Edelgard couldn’t hold him as hostage against Teach. But that was out of the question. Claude’s number one self rule was to never do anything that would get himself killed. He had too many unfulfilled ambitions, his life was too precious. Claude couldn’t afford to die.

On the other hand, if Claude didn’t do something soon, it’d be Teach’s life who was forfeit. Claude's number two self rule was to never do anything that would get his comrades killed. Still, it was his life versus Teach’s. What would he do? Obviously, Claude couldn’t sacrifice himself. He could count on Teach for many things, but seeing his dreams through wasn’t one of them. ...Then again, if Teach perished, this war was finished.

Without Teach to guide them, Edelgard’s victory would be assured. The Alliance’s demise would be eminent. If that happened, he would have no choice but to flee to Almyra. Claude understood that surrender would be the only option at that point, but what about his friends and allies? If he had asked himself this question a year ago, Claude would have felt reasonably confident that the others would surrender.

...But this was no longer the case.

Leonie had vowed to former mentor, Jeralt, that she would protect his child. If she failed in that, then her next goal would be avenging his death. She would stop at nothing to kill the one who took Jeralt and Teach away from them. Lysithea was much the same in that regard. She held a grudge against the Empire for the experiments conducted on House Ordelia eighteen years ago. And whatever had developed between her and Teach, Claude was sure that his death would push her over the edge. She would pursue vengeance at any cost.

The old Lorenz might have meekly surrendered for the sake of House Gloucester but...if Leonie and Lysithea were fighting, there was no way he would back down. The Marianne he knew back in the monastery would have run away, but now...he was sure that she would stick with her friends. And if they were on board, Raphael would follow them.

Ignatz would feel it was his duty to protect Fodlan’s future and even Hilda, despite all her whining...yes, even she would stick by her friends' side until the very end. Now it wasn’t just Claude’s life versus Teach’s. It was Claude’s life and his dreams versus the lives of all of his comrades. If Claude died, then all of his hopes and ambitions would die with him. But if Teach died...then all of their friends would die in his name.

So, what would it be? Claude’s own life? Or Teach’s?

...

No, that was nonsense. Nobody was going to die. Even _if_ Claude poisoned himself, Petra could still use Hilda as a hostage, which meant he would have died for nothing. How could he be so stupid as to even consider giving up like this? He would have to find a way to turn this dart on Petra instead, but that hardly seemed possible, let alone ideal. Petra was the Brigid princess; she would be much more useful to his long term goals as an ally.

“Hey, Petra,” Claude whispered.

“There will be no words of discussion between us,” Petra hissed harshly.

“Easy there, I just wanted to ask you something.” Claude pressed. “Is it true that Brigid is under imperial control?”

Petra frowned, but didn’t say anything. At first it seemed as though she had no intention of responding to Claude’s question, but after a few moments she spoke.

“You speak with correctness...” Petra admitted quietly. “When this war of Fodlan is finished, I am hoping that Brigid will stand with equalness to the Empire.”

“I see...but why fight for the Empire? If the Empire was crushed, then Brigid would be free, right?” Claude reasoned

“There is truthfulness to your words, but I am having no desire for Edelgard or my friends of the Empire to fall,” Petra argued, her sideways glance acting as a rejecting shake of her head. “If the Empire is to be winning this war, Edelgard has made promise to help Brigid stand on equal footwork. And...if the Empire is to be losing...”

Petra trailed off, but Claude understood. Petra had considered her position and had chosen to place herself in a situation where she could not lose. If the Empire won, Edelgard was sure to help raise Brigid up to equal status. And if the Empire was defeated, then Brigid would be free. So long as Petra fought for the Empire, Brigid was safe, regardless of the outcome. Claude had to admit, he admired this sort of shrewd thinking. But still...

“But is that really the best way for Brigid to earn its status and respect?” Claude debated. “I mean, how would it look to the rest of the world if Brigid only earned its independence by groveling at the feet of the Empire? Or waiting for it to collapse? Think about it, the Empire is losing this war. If you turn against Edelgard now, Brigid could be seen as—ACK!!”

Claude yelled in pain as Petra began digging her dagger into his back.

“Claude!” Hilda gasped, whirling to face him.

“I will not be swaying by your words of honey, Claude von Riegan!” Petra snapped.

“G-Got it!” Claude grunted through the pain.

Claude let out a sigh as Petra removed the dagger. Admittedly, he knew going in that diplomacy would be a long shot. It couldn’t be helped. When the time came, he would have to kill her too. _If_ the time came, that is. The group was getting closer and closer to the throne room and Claude _still_ didn’t have a scheme to get them out of this.

What tricks did he still have up his sleeve? ...Well, Petra was carrying two Heroes Relics. Was she aware of the potential dangers that came with wielding them? Probably not. Only the Golden Deer and Church of Seiros knew about the Miklan incident.

Were they to engage in battle, using the Relics would surely take their toll on Petra’s body...she might even transform into a Demonic Beast. That hardly sounded advantageous, though. If anything, it made their situation even more dangerous. And in order to engage her, he would need to escape from her grasp first. Still no plan on how to do that.

 _“In a bit of a bind, are you?”_ Lorenz’s voice taunted within Claude’s mind.

Claude’s eyes widened, but he didn’t say a word. He didn’t know enough magic to telepathically speak back to Lorenz. And even if he did, Petra would surely notice this.

 _“Regrettably, we are limited to a one-sided conversation and so alas, it seems you must turn to me for leadership.”_ Lorenz communicated. _“I do not know how you ended up in this situation, but you must know that I cannot simply allow you to turn yourself in to the Emperor. You are far too important, Claude.”_

Claude couldn’t help but smirk at this comment.

 _“Marianne and I are approaching your location.”_ Lorenz continued. _“When I have finished my countdown, I will begin the assault with a powerful spell. Use the chaos to free yourself and Hilda. And then prepare for a fight.”_

Understood. At this point, there was nothing left to do but wait. Once Lorenz launched his spell, Claude would quickly jump out of the way, throw the poisoned dart at Petra, and rejoin his troops with Hilda. Assuming he could hit Petra amidst the chaos, it was possible their battle would end swiftly...it all depended on how the Brigid warriors reacted to the loss of their commander.

_“You are within sight. 3...2...1...”_

At that moment, flames appeared at Claude and Petra’s feet. Petra yelled something in a foreign tongue and Claude took the opportunity to wrench himself free of her grasp and leap out of harm’s way. There was an explosion from Lorenz’s spell and smoke filled the air as the Gloucester knights launched a series of Fire spells at Petra and her troops. Claude quickly took the chance to toss the poison dart in Petra's direction before joining Hilda’s side.

“Argh!” Petra cried in pain.

“Continue the assault!” Lorenz ordered

“Attack with flash-fire arrows!” Marianne called to the House Edmund troops, who let out a volley of arrows.

“Archers, group up and prepare for a pincer attack!” Claude shouted.

“Duke Riegan!” One of the archers yelled, managing to catch Claude's attention before tossing him their bow.

Claude caught the bow and joined in the assault. The Brigid warriors shouted in their native tongue, but amidst the smoke and with no commander, they were completely disoriented. Just when it seemed as though the battle had been decided however...

“I will be crushing _all_ of you!” Petra cried.

_BOOM!_

There was a sudden tremor, causing troops from both sides of the conflict to fall off their feet. Claude just barely managed to remain steady, and it was a good thing too, for that was the only reason he was able to dodge the next incoming arrow.

_WHIZZ!_

The smoke cleared, revealing Petra. She was wielding Failnaught and had already managed to shoot six—no seven of the Alliance troops in a matter of seconds. Freikugel was sunk into the ground next to her feet, which suggested that Petra had just used it to create the recent tremor.

Petra removed the poison dart lodged in her thigh and tossed it aside. The fact that she wasn’t dead meant that the people of Brigid either had built up an immunity to the poison or had developed an antidote. Whatever the case, Claude wasn’t surprised. Brigid was a small and technologically undeveloped country. In order to survive they had to rely on clever tricks and crafty schemes. It was because of these traits that Claude had come to respect them so much.

“House Goneril, protect Claude!” Hilda called, directing the heavily armored troops to advance.

“It is no usefulness!” Petra yelled, slamming Freikugel into the ground again, creating another tremor.

Many troops on both sides fell over once again, but Claude had braced for this and the heavily armored Goneril soldiers were able to keep their footing as well. Instead of attacking Petra, however, they advanced towards the collapsed and defenseless Brigid warriors.

“Lorenz!” Claude called, aiming his bow at Petra.

“Understood!” Lorenz called back, attacking Petra from behind with his own fireballs.

This maneuver failed, however. Not only was Petra able to duck, dodge, and leap over their attacks, she was also able to quickly target the Goneril soldiers with Failnaught. It didn’t matter how heavily armored they were, they couldn’t defend against the power of a Hero's Relic. Petra attacked quickly, with deadly precision, and with the ferocity of a warrior. She turned the bow onto Claude next, and then Lorenz, firing at both of them within a split second. Claude was just barely able to dodge, however...

“Argghhh!!” Lorenz cried, as Failnaught’s arrow pierced through his armor, hitting his shoulder.

Marianne gasped and quickly ran to Lorenz’s side to heal him, but Petra was already preparing another arrow and aimed it straight at Marianne. It was then that something truly unexpected occurred.

“MARIANNE!” Hilda screamed, rushing forward.

With no weapon in hand and determined to protect her dearest friend, Hilda ran full speed towards Petra and desperately tried to wrestle Failnaught out of her hands. Petra released the readied arrow, which penetrated Hilda’s stomach and exited cleanly out her back. The sheer force of the Relic’s attack was enough to fling Hilda back several feet.

To say Claude was shocked would be an understatement. He had known Hilda for years now. She was the one person he felt secure putting in dangerous situations because she could always be relied on to retreat when things became too dangerous. Never in a million years would he have expected Hilda to place herself in danger, even for a friend.

Whatever the case, Claude didn’t have time to stand there, mouth agape, and fully process the situation. Yelling in panic wouldn’t help Hilda right now. He had to act, and quickly. Claude’s dominant survival instincts were overtaken by a killer instinct. Without a moment’s hesitation, Claude began firing arrows at a rapid speed towards Petra. Anything to get her attention away from Hilda and the others.

Petra evaded his attacks and responded with her own volley of arrows while the Brigid warriors assisted with their blowguns. And yet, despite all the trouble they had given him before, Claude was somehow able to dodge these attacks perfectly. His eyesight was keener than usual, his reflexes sharper. Claude weaved through the arrows and darts, before expertly shooting back at his assailants, hitting several of them.

Petra let loose another volley of arrows and Claude, once again, managed to dodge them all. He prepared his own bow in retaliation, but paused when he saw Petra drop to her knees, shaking uncontrollably. At first, Claude suspected that perhaps the poisoned dart was starting to show late term effects—but that wasn’t it. It was the Heroes Relics taking their toll.

“Drop the bow!” Claude demanded. “Without a Crest you—”

“I am...having awareness of these... _cough_...dark relics of Fodlan,” Petra choked before desperately firing another arrow at Claude.

Claude ducked the attack and quickly shot an arrow at Petra’s hand, hoping to disarm her.

“Gah!” Petra cried, but only clutched more firmly onto Failnaught and Freikugel.

“Petra, if you don’t drop those now, you’ll—”

“I... _cough cough_...am knowing what will happen...” Petra gasped, fighting back tears. “For home...for Brigid...I must...I must be doing—AAAYYYIIII!!!”

Suddenly a black substance emerged from both Relics, which began to cover Petra’s body.

“Petra!” Claude yelled, rushing towards her and trying to remove the Heroes Relics from her hands.

It was too late, however. The Relics were practically glued to Petra and her body was completely engulfed by the black substance. Just as it happened with Miklan, her entire body turned pitch black, she grew in size, and twisted in shape. With two Heroes Relics fusing to her at once, Petra had taken on the form of a brand new type of Demonic Beast. Pitch black and quadrupedal like most beasts, but double the size, with extended claws, glowing pink eyes, and a long tail that was shaped like an axe.

* * *

_Swish! Twang! Whizz!_

Byleth was being put under pressure by the sheer numbers of the imperial army. Spells, arrows, and blades attacked him from all sides as the imperial soldiers began to form a circle around their adversary. It was one thing to detect all incoming attacks, but something else entirely to actually dodge them all.

_Twang! Twang! Whoosh!_

Byleth dodged two arrows and ducked an axe, before quickly stabbing the soldier wielding it.

“Gah! ...F-For...Edelgard!” The imperial soldier gasped, surprisingly Byleth by suddenly pulling him into a tight embrace, trapping him.

“Aha! You’re open!” Hanneman shouted, electrocuting Byleth and the imperial soldier with a Thoron spell.

“Arrrgghh!” Byleth gasped.

“Now it’s my turn,” Manuela said, following up Hanneman’s attack with a sword strike.

With no other choice, Byleth was forced to frantically break free of the imperial soldier and leave the Sword of the Creator behind to avoid getting stabbed. He was unarmed and could only fall back to magic now...which was less than ideal.

“Sorry, Professor, but one of us has to die.” Manuela said, sending out a blast of lightning from her sword.

“Don’t let up now, we have him surrounded and disarmed! Everyone, attack!” Hanneman encouraged.

Byleth dodged Manuela's lightning, but the imperial troops continued pelting Byleth with arrows and spells. Now that he didn’t have the Sword of the Creator, he could no longer cut through their magic. Byleth was running out of stamina as well. If he was to have any chance of surviving this, he needed to retrieve the Sword of the Creator.

Although Byleth didn’t know as many powerful spells as Lysithea, he was good at performing magic quickly. He ducked the arrows and quickly cast Nosferatsu to counter the incoming spells. While Byleth was kept busy by the barrage of incoming projectiles, Manuela stepped in, thrusting her sword directly at Byleth’s face. Byleth dropped to his knees to avoid this, but as he did so, an archer shot at his legs. Byleth managed to avoid this by sweep-kicking over the arrow, tripping Manuela in the process.

While Byleth was down, another axe wielder came charging in, smashing his weapon into the ground. Byleth was able to roll away just in time, jump back on his feet, and punch the imperial soldier in the gut, knocking the wind out of him. Byleth narrowly avoided two more arrows and used the brief moment of pause to cast Aura, summoning a pillar of light to clear out a crowd of soldiers.

“URRRAAAARRRGGHHH!!!” The imperial soldiers cried.

Not wasting a moment, Byleth sprinted towards the Sword of the Creator, however Manuela soon recovered and was hot on his tail.

“We can’t let him get that sword!” One of the soldiers cried out.

Byleth leapt over a fireball aimed at his feet and used his handguards to block two incoming arrows. Closing in on the sword, he slid on his knees—avoiding a cutting gale spell that would have severed his neck—and dislodged the Sword of the Creator from the fallen imperial soldier. Just as Manuela closed in on him, Byleth turned his sword on her, forcing her to leap back.

“Ugh. This is getting irritating and my back is killing me.” Manuela moaned.

“Hmmm, I have an idea,” Hanneman proposed. “Manuela, come here for a moment.”

“Oh, very well...” Manuela sighed, retreating to Hanneman’s side.

The sensible thing to do would be stopping Manuela and Hanneman before they could enact whatever they had planned. However, between the number of imperial troops he was fighting, it was all Byleth could do to keep himself alive. Hanneman placed a hand on Manuela, murmured a spell, and a thin ghostly barrier surrounded her. She was now protected by the Ward spell. It was an effective shield against minor magic, but would be completely ineffective against Byleth’s blade. However...

“Hm, not bad. It suits we quite well, don’t you think?” Manuela smirked.

“Mages, target the professor with your weaker spells,” Hanneman ordered. “Do not worry about hitting Manuela, she is quite safe. Attack him with everything you have!”

Byleth’s eyes widened as each of the imperial mages began to attack him with the Nosferatsu spell in rapid succession. He jumped, ducked, and blocked the spells with the Sword of the Creator, while Manuela advanced on him. The pace of battle had changed entirely. Previously, the imperial soldiers were restrained in their attacks, taking care to avoid hitting Manuela or any other allies, but now the mages could cast spells without restriction.

Manuela reengaged, her fighting becoming more aggressive as Byleth was steadily cornered by the other mages. She was hit by several Nosferatsu blasts, but the Ward spell prevented her from sustaining any damage. The imperial archers and knights had thankfully stopped attacking, but the sheer number of spells coming from the mages was difficult—no _impossible_ to avoid.

“Oof!” Byleth grunted as one—two spells hit him.

They weren’t deadly, but they were draining away his stamina. Avoiding them was hard enough on its own, but now he had to dodge spells while dueling Manuela. The imperials had been unsuccessful in landing a deadly blow at this point, so Hanneman's plan was to steadily chip away at Byleth's defenses. He needed to break through their ranks somehow, but using Sublime Heaven would leave him exposed to any imperial troops he wasn’t facing.

Meanwhile Lysithea continued her own engagement with Dorothea, their blades a blur of blue and red as the duel became ever more intense. Lysithea knew what Dorothea was trying to do. She knew that her opponent was hoping to prolong their fight as long as possible until Lysithea was worn out or the professor fell in battle. And the way things were going, the professor looked like he would be in serious trouble if she didn’t finish this soon.

However, while it was true that prolonged battles were Lysithea’s weakness, holding an extended battle with Lysithea wasn't easy. After all, she had worked tirelessly with the professor to overcome such flaws. She knew exactly how to handle this situation.

_“I can break through enemy defenses well enough, Professor. But what do I do if I find myself in a lengthy fight?”_

_“If your opponent resorts to defensive stalling, they have given you control over the flow of battle. Use this advantage to corner them. First, practice with me.”_

She remembered that day well. The professor had taught her the skills necessary to overcome an evasive opponent. What truly made the day memorable, however, was that this was the one and only time she had defeated Byleth during training practice. Yes, she had _beaten_ the professor!

Well, sort of. He hadn’t been fighting seriously and only focused on dodging her attacks, but nevertheless she had managed to successfully land a hit against him. The professor had even told her that if it had been a real battle, she would have won.

...And that he was proud.

But more importantly, their training session had been indoors, which meant she could use similar tactics here in the palace. Just like with the professor, she would apply pressure on Dorothea and force her against the wall. And if her opponent didn’t succumb to pressure, Lysithea would beat her using the same surprise attack she had used on Byleth.

_Swish! Bang! Swoosh!_

A left slash to make Dorothea dodge left, a blast of Miasma at her feet to make her jump back, and a thrust attack to continue the momentum and further push her. They were almost there. Lysithea just needed to keep it up and predict the enemy’s next move. Dorothea was sure to realize what was going on and, to avoid being pinned, she would either flee or attack in desperation.

Even the smartest of people could make stupid mistakes when fighting under pressure. That was one of the first lessons Byleth taught her during training. Very few people had both the experience and self-control to remain calm when their lives were at risk. Supposedly even Byleth had rare moments of panic. According to the professor, he once nearly took an axe to the back trying to protect someone.

_Swoosh! Swoosh! Swish!_

Lysithea continued her assault, her attacks becoming ever the more aggressive, expending more energy to attack as quickly and fiercely as possible, hoping to draw Dorothea into a state of panic. It wasn't long until Dorothea backed into the wall. With her movement restricted and being unable to duck the attacks of a smaller opponent, Dorothea, in a state of anxiety and distress, lunged out and tried to stab at Lysithea.

_CLANG!_

Lysithea had predicted this and parried the attack perfectly, knocking Dorothea off balance, allowing her to follow up with a Miasma spell. Dorothea managed to avoid this, but upon hitting the wall, the Miasma spell exploded and the blast radius toppled Dorothea onto her back. Finally, the battle was over.

“If you must kill me...end it quickly.” Dorothea pleaded, recognizing her defeat.

Lysithea gave a small, reluctant sigh and raised her sword, prepared to strike her opponent down when—

“Agh!!” Lysithea gasped as an arrow pierced her right shoulder.

While the mages were dealing with Byleth, the imperial knights and archers had broken away from the rest of the troops and were now rushing towards Lysithea. She had come so close to winning her fight with Dorothea but now she was injured and outnumbered...

* * *

“Aagghh!!!”

“GROOOARRRR!!!”

The Demonic Beast that had once been Petra stomped around the palace, crushing allies and enemies alike with her paws and thrashing her axe-like tail wildly to further the carnage. Upon seeing their own people fall alongside the Alliance troops, the Brigid warriors yelled something in their native language before fleeing.

“That is our cue to retreat!” Lorenz shouted.

“Not a chance,” Claude countered. “She’s blocking our only path to the throne room. The plan was to attack the Emperor on all sides!”

“That—” Lorenz started.

“Besides, we can’t just leave the Heroes Relics behind.”

“I...yes, I suppose you do have a point,” Lorenz conceded.

“Duke Riegan, our attacks have no effect! It heals too quickly!” One of the Riegan archers called.

Sure enough, as the Goneril soldiers cut at the Demonic Beast’s hide with their axes and the Riegan archers punctured it with their arrows, the Demonic Beast was able to quickly regenerate from its wounds. Even the Gloucester knights casting Sepharim were unable to dish out any lasting damage.

“No good, huh? Damn.” Claude sighed.

“We need to get Hilda to safety,” Lorenz reminded him as Marianne continued to heal Hilda’s wound. “What do you propose we do?”

“Right. Lorenz, you’ll take Marianne’s place. While she and I fight Petra, I need you to look after Hilda and heal her wounds.”

“Marianne?! Unacceptable! She—”

“She’s the only one of us who still has a Heroes Relic.” Claude interrupted.

“I have a Crest. I could wield Blutgang in her stead,” Lorenz insisted.

“No, I’ll do it,” Marianne said in a gentle but resolute tone.

“But—”

“I’m better suited to wield Blutgang. And you’re too injured to fight,” Marianne reminded him, pointing to Lorenz’s shoulder. “Please Lorenz, I don’t want to run away anymore.”

“I...very well. I concede,” Lorenz sighed, gently scooping Hilda into his arms applying his own white magic to her wound. “Please look after her, Claude.”

“Of course.” Claude nodded. “And make sure Hilda’s safe too, alright?”

“I’ll guard her with my life,” Lorenz vowed, carrying Hilda to safety.

“GRAAARR!!! ROAAARRR!!!” The Demonic Beast screeched.

Suddenly, its axe-like tail turned ablaze with fire and the Demonic Beast thrashed it wildly against the walls and floor. Each hit created a tremor and the areas struck by the tail turned molten from the heat, similar to how it did when Hilda used Apocalyptic Flame.

“Ah!” Marianne gasped, nearly tripping from the tremors but was thankfully caught by Claude. “T-Thank you. What do we do now, Claude?”

As the Demonic Beast continued to thrash around wildly, Claude noticed a glint of silver on the floor. During Petra’s transformation, she had dropped the Sword of Begalta.

“I have a scheme in mind, but I’m going to need you to use your magic to relay it to the other troops.” Claude explained. “While you do that, I’m going to keep Petra distracted and retrieve my sword.”

“Are...you sure you’ll be alright?” Marianne wondered. “Can you keep its attention?”

“Don’t worry about me. If there’s one thing I’m good at it’s staying alive,” Claude assured her. “Besides, I can be preeetty irritating when I want to be.”

Claude smirked and Marianne giggled.

“OK then, what’s your plan?”

* * *

Lysithea staggered away from the battle as quickly as she could, blood gushing from her shoulder. With the state her arm was in, she couldn’t wield a sword properly and there was no chance of surviving close combat now. Having knocked Dorothea to the ground before sustaining her injury, Lysithea did manage to get a head start over her pursuers, but she was unbalanced and exhausted. It wouldn’t be long until she was caught.

_Twang! Whish!_

An arrow soared over Lysithea’s right shoulder, very nearly striking the back of her head. That was too close! She quickly cast Swarm several times while running, sending dark magical insects to slow down her assailants, and began moving in a slight zigzag pattern to make herself more difficult to target

“P-Prof—” Lysithea gasped, stumbling for a moment before regaining her footing and continuing to run.

Byleth had heard Lysithea’s initial scream when the arrow had struck her, but he was too far away and deeply engaged with his current battle to do anything about it. The mages continued blasting Nosferatsu in rapid succession and with each hit he took, it was becoming harder to dodge. Byleth was getting tired and his movements were becoming sluggish and sloppy—he could barely hold off Manuela any longer.

Upon hearing Lysithea’s renewed cry for help, however, Byleth panicked, spun around, and unleashed Sublime Heaven on the mages separating him and his student. The Sword of the Creator turned into a whip and lashed out at the mages. None of them even had a chance to scream as the sword bisected all of them. This, however, had been a mistake. Much like Dorothea had done in her stake of desperation, Byleth too had acted irrationally. He was left exposed and the mages behind him were all able to land their spells on him.

“Ugh!” Byleth gasped as the combined Nosferatsu attacks severely drained his stamina.

“You’re wide open, Professor!” Hanneman shouted, following up the mage’s attacks with a Thoron spell.

The blast of Thoron launched Byleth several feet, head first, outside of the circle of mages. Byleth’s face met the stone palace floor, his nose and forehead bleeding profusely from the impact. Feeling dazed, Byleth quickly scrambled to his feet and prepared his sword. At least he wasn’t surrounded by the mages now...but they still outnumbered him significantly and were advancing.

Likewise, the other imperial troops were advancing towards Lysithea who sent wave after wave of spells. The blast radius of her magical attacks was enough to clear multiple troops at once, but there were just too many of them. The two were outnumbered one hundred to one and, to make things worse, Dorothea had recovered and was headed their way. Lysithea gulped, slowly stepping backwards, hoping to stay out of range, but soon bumped against Byleth. The two were back to back now.

“Professor...” Lysithea muttered breathlessly as the imperials began to surround them in a larger circle once again.

“Just...keep fighting...” Byleth panted.

Keep fighting. Yes. That was what Lysithea had done all her life. And it was the same for the professor. It was all they could do, really. To think that after making it this far...the two of them would die like this. Lysithea had always known that she would die young, but she thought that, before her end came, she would have been able to do something useful for her parents. For her friends. For her professor. But she couldn’t even save him now. ...All of that effort, all of that hard work and tears...in the end, it had all been for nothing.

With Lysithea guarding his back, it would have been easy for Byleth to cut through the imperial mages with Sublime Heaven. Unfortunately, Manuela had reentered the fray and was keeping him engaged at close quarters, leaving him no room to deal with the others. Byleth continued defending against Manuela and the mage's barrage of spells while Lysithea did her best to pick off the archers and keep the knights at bay. Both had accepted their own inevitable death, but they refused to give up on protecting each other. However, the imperial army was closing in on them and the two had reached their limit...

_BOOM!_

There was a loud explosion and slight tremor as the rubble blocking off the Great Hall from the rest of the palace was blown away.

“The Knights of Seiros have arrived!”

Byleth didn’t dare take his eyes off the enemy, but he could recognize that happy, triumphant voice anywhere... _Alois._

Indeed, it was Alois. Leonie too. They and the rest of the knights had joined Byleth and Lysithea in the Great Hall, having used a powder keg to blow away the debris blocking the entrance.

“Professor! Lysithea! Thank the goddess you’re both still safe!” Leonie exclaimed with a tone of relief.

Lysithea simply smiled weakly in response, lacking the energy to speak.

“Reunions can wait until later,” Alois interjected. “For now, give it everything you have! Knights of Seiros, attack!”

“YAAAAAAHHH!!!” The Knights of Seiros shouted as they stormed the Great Hall.

As the Knights of Seiros advanced, the imperial mages and Manuela redoubled their efforts, attacking Byleth their full ferocity in a desperate attempt to finish him off before the reinforcements could provide aid. Lysithea, however, was more fortunate. Due to their position, the imperial knights and archers were forced to change focus from Lysithea to the approaching Knights of Seiros.

All except Dorothea, who continued to approach Lysithea. She was swift, agile, and evasive, but Lysithea was a good aim and managed to land a direct hit on her opponent with Miasma. Dorothea was flung back by the attack, but landed perfectly on her feet before continuing her assault.

With each spell Lysithea sent, Dorothea was able to cancel it by casting a spell of her own. And with only one good arm, the number of spells Lysithea could cast in quick succession was cut in half. She couldn’t beat Dorothea in her current condition, but that didn’t matter. Now it was Lysithea who was stalling for time. She just needed to last until the knights could assist her.

Eventually Dorothea closed the gap between them, whipped out her sword, and lunged at Lysithea. Lysithea was able to jump back just in time, but Dorothea was quick to follow up this attack with another slash. To avoid this, Lysithea was forced to dive. She rolled onto her back, unable to push herself up due to her injured arm.

Not having enough time to cast a spell, Lysithea instead used the power of Soulblade and chucked her sword at Dorothea. Dorothea ducked the attack and thrusted at Lysithea, but before she could hit her target, a well-aimed arrow, shot by Leonie, pierced Dorothea’s palm, forcing her to drop her blade.

“Ack!” Dorothea gasped, clutching her hand.

Lysithea quickly took advantage of this opening to cast Miasma once again. Dorothea didn’t move in time and was sent stumbling back. She was quickly able to regain her footing but—

“GAAAHH!!!” Dorothea screamed as Leonie’s lance penetrated her chest from behind.

“NO!”

Hanneman’s reaction was one of anguish, but Manuela was left wide-eyed and speechless.

“Edelgard, forgive me...I can't...” Dorothea whispered, as Leonie withdrew her lance and she collapsed to the ground.

Byleth winced at the sight of Dorothea’s crumpled body before grimly turning towards Manuela. In her state of shock, Manuela had left herself wide open to attack...and yet Byleth hesitated. He had learned, at his own peril, that mercy was a luxury that couldn’t be afforded during war. Even so, he felt too much sympathy towards Manuela to strike her down. He recognized that look of anguish on her face. Manuela had just lost her precious student. Byleth knew how it felt, watching his students die before his eyes—but at least he had the Divine Pulse. Manuela didn’t have that luxury. Dorothea was gone. Forever.

“You can still surrender,” Byleth offered sadly. “Nobody else needs to die—”

_Bam!_

Manuela managed to completely catch him off guard with a left hook, causing him to stumble backwards. Byleth quickly and instinctively raised his sword to block her follow up strike, but it never came. Instead, Manuela ducked beneath his arm and charged full speed towards Leonie, intent on killing her. The usual grace and elegance in Manuela’s fighting style vanished completely as she slashed wildly at Leonie in a demented rage.

With Manuela out of the way, Byleth was free to attack the imperial mages. But first he needed to assist Lysithea, who was on her back and as helpless as a turtle. The mages continued their assault, but Byleth quickly cut through their initial spells and dodged the rest, before making his way to Lysithea’s side and pulling her to her feet.

“W-We need to help Leonie—and quickly!” Lysithea exclaimed.

As Leonie continued to fight Manuela, it was clear that the songstress had completely lost her composure, which meant her style wasn’t as fluid or effective as usual. But, because of her mental state, Manuela’s movements were swift, wild, and erratic, thus taking Leonie by surprise. Leonie was just able to block an attempted slash at her neck with her lance, but Manuela followed this attack up by sending a current of electricity through her sword, which travelled through Leonie’s lance and electrocuted her.

“Aaaaggghhh!” Leonie cried.

Manuela capitalized on this moment and thrusted once more, but Byleth managed to jump in the way and deflect her attack. His blade was locked with Manuela’s.

“You’ve lost. Surrender now,” Byleth commanded.

This was certainly true. With the Knights of Seiros at their side, the tides of battle had shifted substantially. The majority of the imperial forces had been driven off or killed. The only ones who remained were the two professors and the imperial mages. Nevertheless, Manuela didn’t yield. She simply bared her teeth at Byleth.

“I don’t want to kill you...” Byleth said softly.

Manuela gave him a sardonic smile.

“Fate can be so cruel,” Manuela almost chuckled in a playful, slightly sad tone. “Spilling the blood of your students with your own hands...how can you carry on after that?”

She was mocking him. The loss of her protégé had set her off and she just wanted to say something that would make Byleth hurt.

...And she succeeded. Whatever sympathy or mercy Byleth had reserved for his former colleague vanished completely. The fight ended in a matter of seconds. With two quick motions, Byleth disarmed Manuela, knocking her sword out of her hand, and then impaled her chest.

Manuela stood there, mouth agape, staring at Byleth, wide eyed and breathless, her hands outstretched, grasping desperately, mouthing wordlessly as Byleth removed his blade, leaving her to collapse in a pool of her own blood.

“Ugh...this isn’t at all how I wanted things to go,” Alois muttered with a small sigh..

“Indeed. But alas, such is the reality of war.”

Hanneman’s voice was calm if not a bit resigned. The imperial mages had stopped attacking a while ago and were instead channeling their magic, likely preparing for a simultaneous attack. Byleth readied the Sword of the Creator.

“Come on, Hanneman, there’s no need to continue this,” Alois pleaded.

“I’m afraid there is,” Hanneman said sternly, his brow furrowed. “I became a Crest Scholar so that I might one day see the influence of Crests removed from this world.”

“You won’t be helping _anyone_ if you get yourself killed, Hanneman!” Lysithea snapped.

“I’m afraid there is no other alternative,” Hanneman sighed. “I’m sorry it had to end this way, Lysithea.”

“You’re throwing your life away! You can still do good for the world!” Lysithea insisted.

“Yes...I intend to,” Hanneman assured her with a dark tone. “Farewell, Lysithea. Farewell, Professor. If I must fall, I can only hope that my successor may learn the secrets of your Crests once they have salvaged your bodies.”

“You can’t win. Give up,” Byleth reiterated.

Byleth was tired of killing and he especially didn’t want to kill Hanneman, someone whose research could prove to be pivotal in helping Lysithea.

“Ah, the folly of youth,” Hanneman chuckled with a benign, yet sad smile. “I’m afraid this old Crest Scholar still has some tricks up his sleeve.”

Hanneman reached into his pocket, pulling out a familiar looking red sphere. It was—

“A Crest Stone!” Lysithea exclaimed. 

“You left me no alternative.” Hanneman said before lifting the stone to his mouth...and swallowing it whole. “For the new Empire that Edelgard has built I shall—agh!”

Hanneman gasped, clutching his chest in pain as the Crest Stone started to take its toll on his body. The imperial mages quickly retreated as Hanneman’s transformation began—judging by their reaction, they were never made aware of this last ditch resort. The Knights of Seiros stared in horror as Hanneman’s skin turned pitch black, his body changed shape and his size—

“Oogh!” Hanneman gasped, glancing down as the Sword of the Creator pierced his chest.

Adrenaline rocking her with a tremor, Lysithea glanced up at Byleth, who had taken the initiative and flung the Sword of Creator’s whip forward, stabbing Hanneman in the heart before he could complete his transformation. Seeing the professor act on his killer instincts like this brought back memories from her early days at the academy. Some had called their professor 'cold blooded' but...even now Lysithea couldn’t help but admire his rational thinking. While the rest of them had been too horrified to react, the professor had kept a cool head and did the only sensible thing.

Byleth retracted his sword and Hanneman fell to his knees. It was a pitiful sight to behold. Hanneman, bloodied and broken, a look of crushing defeat on his tired old face as his hopes and dreams died before his eyes. He whispered something inaudible, before collapsing face first on the ground, dead.

“I...wish this could have all ended differently...” Alois lamented.

Byleth nodded in agreement but didn’t say anything. With the imperial troops defeated or driven off and their commanders dead, Lysithea finally fell to her knees, panting from exhaustion. Byleth quickly knelt beside her.

“I’ll heal you,” Byleth offered.

Lysithea nodded weakly, before reaching towards the arrow that was still lodged in her arm.

“Hold on a moment, let me handle that!” Leonie insisted, stooping next to her. “There’s a trick to this and if you don’t do it right, you could make it worse.”

Lysithea simply nodded again and left Leonie to her work, grimacing as Leonie tested and prodded the arrow.

“It’s not too deep...” Leonie muttered. “But I’m going to need to relax and uh...look away.”

“Why do I need to do that?” Lysithea frowned.

Byleth sighed and, knowing what was coming next, grabbed Lysithea’s arm to keep it still.

“Just do as she says and...don’t struggle.” Byleth told her.

Lysithea frowned suspiciously but turned away as instructed.

“So, what are you going to—OOOWWWW!!!!” Lysithea screamed, snapping her head towards Leonie. “H-Hey, what are you doing?!”

“I’m sorry, but I had to make the wound larger or it wouldn’t come out,” Leonie apologized, holding the bloodied arrow in one hand and a dagger in the other.

With the arrow removed, Byleth quickly placed his hands to Lysithea’s shoulder, using white magic to heal her wounds and invigorate her stamina. Lysithea let out a tense sigh at the soothing feeling. Healing was the one field of magic where Byleth surpassed her in

“T-Thank you...” Lysithea said softly, using her free hand to apply her own white magic on Byleth’s wounds.

“How did you know where to find us?” Byleth asked, glancing to Alois, Leonie, and the knights.

“A big brother’s instincts!” Alois boomed cheerfully.

“Flayn contacted us,” Leonie explained. “She saw that the two of you had been separated from your troops and suggested we come to your aid.”

“Thanks for that.” Byleth muttered awkwardly.

It wasn’t easy for Byleth to admit when he was struggling. And it was even more difficult for him to accept help when offered but...he was glad to have ‘siblings’ like Alois and Leonie looking out for him.

“This is it, isn’t it?” Lysithea frowned, glancing to the double door ahead of them. “Just beyond that door is the throne room...where Edelgard is waiting.”

“This will finally be my chance to avenge Captain Jeralt,” Leonie said, her tone one of conviction.

Byleth frowned. Despite the bitter feelings he felt towards Edelgard, he still didn’t believe she was behind Jeralt’s murder. Although...there was no point in suggesting that now.

“Indeed, this truly is the final battle!” Alois announced with a voice of finality and cheer. “For the sake of the captain and Lady Rhea, let us strike the Adresian Emperor down and bring an end to this war!”

“Uh, maybe after these two heal up,” Leonie corrected him.

“Hm? Oh, ah yes...I might have gotten carried away,” Alois mumbled upon noticing Byleth and Lysithea’s condition.

* * *

“GRROOOAARR!!!”

The Demonic Beast continued its rampage as it stampeded through several Alliance troops who were in the middle of making preparations for Claude’s scheme.

“Hey, princess, over here!” Claude called, having retrieved the Sword of Begalta.

“RRAAAAARR!” The Demonic Beast faced him and held one of its front paws forward, it's claws glowing pink.

“WOAH!” Claude gasped, jumping behind a pillar as the Demonic Beast’s claws shot out like bullets from its paw.

“Aaaaggghhh!!” Several Alliance soldiers screamed as the Demonic Beast turned its attack on them.

For each claw the Demonic Beast shot out, a new one would instantly regenerate in its place. It was like facing a rapid volley of Failnaught’s arrows. The troops weren't going to last long at this rate, so Claude had to act quickly. Peeking out from behind the pillar, he shot a readied arrow into the Demonic Beast’s snout. It wasn’t particularly effective, but it was enough to draw the beast’s attention towards him.

As the Demonic Beast charged towards him, however, a pillar of light erupted from underneath its tummy, toppling it to the side. Marianne had used a perfectly timed Aura spell to stop the creature in its tracks. She quickly followed this up by attacking the beast’s back with Blutgang. Her sword left several nasty wounds, but the beast was able to quickly recover and—

“Marianne, look out!” Claude shouted.

—smacked her with its tail.

“Oomph!” Marianne gasped, having the wind knocked out of her as she was flung into a nearby pillar.

Marianne had been very lucky, for the Demonic Beast had only hit her with the flat side of its axe-like tail and thus she managed to survive. However, she had been hit pretty badly, the impact had dazed her, and the back of her head was bleeding...unfortunately, mages were unable to apply white magic on themselves, which meant Marianne couldn't heal her own wounds.

As the Demonic Beast began rising to its feet, Claude took the opportunity to charge in and grapple onto its back, before stabbing it with his sword.

“AAARRROOOO!!!” The Demonic Beast howled, its focus turned completely on Claude.

The monster spun around and thrashed wildly, trying to buck its rider off. Claude dug his sword in as deeply as he could and used it as a grip to stay on the beast. While Claude kept the beast distracted, the Riegan archers let loose a volley of arrows at its feet. Meanwhile, the Goneril soldiers and Gloucester knights moved in position for Claude’s scheme. It was almost time...

It didn't take long for the Demonic Beast to turn towards the Riegan archers, but Claude was persistent and managed to keep its attention by tugging his lodged sword downward, deepening the wound. The Demonic Beast howled in pain and confusion, unable to determine who to target. In the beast’s moment of frustration, it chose to do something desperate and...rather stupid.

“Claude, behind you!” Marianne cried.

Claude’s eyes widened as he turned his head and saw that the Demonic Beast’s tail had turned crimson with flames once again and was pointed directly at its own back. Claude quickly jumped off of the monster and, just as one might foolishly swat their own face to remove a fly, the Demonic Beast stabbed its own back with its molten tail in an attempt to remove Claude.

“GRAAARRGGHH!!!!” The Demonic Beast howled in pain, as its own tail was lodged in its back.

“For all that brute strength, it’s not too bright, is it?” Claude commented with a small frown.

Marianne put a hand to her mouth in horror. Even if it was a monster, seeing any animal in pain deeply distressed her.

“I know this isn’t easy for you, Marianne.”

“Oh I...um...”

“But the best we can do for Petra right now is put her out of her misery,” Claude said, giving her a hard but encouraging look. “I’m going to draw out its attention once again. While I do that, I want you to go for the tail...and then, we put our plan in motion.”

“Okay. I’m ready!” Marianne asserted, steeling herself.

“Let’s finish this!” Claude shouted, pelting the Demonic Beast with a volley of arrows.

“GRAAAAARR!!!”

While Marianne retreated to safety, Claude positioned himself against the wall as the enraged monster charged at full speed towards him in a blind fury. Just as the Demonic Beast was about to hit him, Claude jumped out of the way, causing it to crash headfirst into the wall.

“Now!” Claude called.

With the Demonic Beast dazed and its rear exposed, Marianne rushed in. The tip of the monster's axe-like tail was still lodged in its back, which meant the creature could no longer use its tail to defend its rear. Marianne took advantage of this and, with one swift, precise swing of Blutgang, she cleaved its tail off.

“AAARRROOO!!!”

The beast’s severed tail began to wither, shrinking in size and returning to the original shape of Freikugel. With a well-aimed shot, Claude was able to hit Freikugel with one of his arrows, dislodging it from the monster’s back. Freikugel fell to the ground, but doing this caused the Demonic Beast to, once again, shift its focus on Claude.

The beast stood on its hind legs for a few moments before sending its front paws crashing back down to the floor. Claude quickly dived forward, landing just beneath the monster’s stomach and avoided being crushed. The Demonic Beast glanced around in a moment of confusion, before eventually spotting Claude as he ducked beneath the creature’s legs and retrieved Freikugel.

Fortunately Claude was quite skilled when it came to wielding axes, for as soon as the Demonic Beast spotted him, it quickly snapped its jaws at its prey. Claude jumped back just in time before slamming Freikugel into the creature’s maw, greatly wounding it.

“Claude, the others are ready!” Marianne called out.

Claude nodded, but before he could do anything, the Demonic Beast let out an ear-splitting screech and began drawing energy towards its maw. Claude didn’t know much about magic, but it was as though the creature was sucking all the magical energy in the room into its mouth, condensing it into a pink sphere. Claude remembered seeing Immaculate One do something similar during the Battle of Garreg Mach...and he knew what would come next.

“Get down!” Claude shouted, tackling Marianne to the floor.

The Demonic Beast let out a beam of pink energy that evaporated everything it touched. Thankfully, Claude and Marianne had managed to duck down just in time to avoid this, but not all the soldiers were so fortunate. The screams of their allies echoed across the halls as the monster unleashed its carnage. When the attack was finally over, Claude quickly pulled Marianne to her feet and ran towards the remaining Alliance troops.

“GRRROOOAAARRR!!!”

With a roar of frustration, the Demonic Beast soon chased after them. It was massive, but it certainly wasn’t slow. The beast quickly closed the gap between itself and its prey, snapping furiously at the pair of them. Just as it seemed as though the beast would devour Claude whole—

“Mages now!” A Gloucester general called out.

At that exact moment, the Gloucester knights unleashed dozens of Sepharim spells all at once. Their combined force not only stopped the monster in its tracks, but also dazed it. Claude had the beast right where he wanted it—in the center of four of the palace's pillars, each one weakened in preparation for this scheme.

_WHACK!_

_CRASH!_

The positioned Goneril soldiers all simultaneously struck at the weakened pillars with their battleaxes, demolishing all four of them simultaneously. With the support structures gone, the ceiling above the Demonic Beast caved in, crushing it.

“GRRAAARRR!!! RAAAARRRR!!!” The Demonic Beast screeched.

Knocking down the ceiling had managed to pin down the beast, but it was still alive. Everything but the monster’s head had been buried.

“Marianne, together!” Claude shouted.

“R-Right!”

With the Demonic Beast unable to do anything but continue screeching and thrashing its head desperately, the two charged towards it, their Heroes Relics at the ready.

“Hyaaahh!”

“Yaaah!”

Claude swung Freikugel down with a decisive strike, splitting the beast’s skull while Marianne stabbed Blutgang into the center of its head. It was at this moment that the beast’s screeches finally subsided, it’s eyes widening for a moment, before drifting. The thrashing stopped and already Petra was beginning to shrink back to her original form.

“W-We won...” Marianne sighed in relief.

“Yeah, it’s over.” Claude muttered, glancing at the remains of Petra and Failnaught.

The taste of victory was bittersweet. Claude had braced himself for the possibility of confronting the Brigid princess in Enbarr, but he had truly hoped that, with the Empire now losing this war, perhaps Petra would consider joining their side. ...He had underestimated her loyalty to Edelgard and her loss would be detrimental to his dream.

Claude sighed and shook his head. There he was, always focusing on the big picture and not even taking this moment to mourn Petra’s death. He couldn’t afford to think like this. Not anymore. If he only ever thought of the 'greater good' without considering the immediate lives he impacted, he would become cold and detached, just like Edelgard.

Still...it was because of Edelgard’s war that Claude now had the chance to see his goals to fruition. There was simply no denying that. He had always hoped to see things through peacefully, but knowing what he did now, Claude had to wonder...was that even truly possible? What would he have done if Edelgard hadn’t started the war? And what would he do when all of this was over?

“Duke Riegan, we have received word from Lord Lorenz.” The Gloucester general said. “Lady Hilda has made a full recovery. They are waiting for us near the western entrance to the throne room.”

“Hm? ...Oh, yeah, right.” Claude said, snapping out of his trance. “I’ll...be there in a moment.”

The general nodded and marched onward with the other troops. As they did so, Claude glanced back down to Petra, muttered a quiet prayer from his homeland, and retrieved Failnaught. He would have to reflect on his hopes and dreams for the rest of the world later. One problem at time...and right now his problem was Edelgard.

Just one more battle and this war would finally be over. And then there would be no more pointless deaths. Even so, it was a bit of a shame. Had things been different, Edelgard could have been a staunch ally and perhaps...a friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It should be too long before Part 3 is up. I finished the rough draft and merely need to have it review.


	20. Twin Flames Part 3 (Verdant Wind: 6/30)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having captured Enbarr, the Imperial Capital, the Alliance army invades the Imperial Palace to face Edelgard and put an end to the war once and for all. (A re-telling of the Conclusion of the Cross Roads)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the wait. Finally we have Part 3, the final confrontation with Edelgard. Enjoy! ...And maybe listen to Indomitable Will while you read. That's what I did when I was writing it. XD

**Verdant Wind**

**Conclusion of the Crossing Roads**

**Day 30 of the Garland Moon**

_BANG!_

Several of the imperial bodyguards recoiled as the double doors of the imperial throne room flew off their hinges, clanging loudly against the palace floor. Standing at the entrance to the throne room was a young man with light green hair and luminous green eyes. Wearing his signature black armor and long-sleeved overcoat, there was no mistaking who he was...Byleth Eisner. A man who was once known as the ‘Ashen Demon’ but these days was better known simply as ‘The Professor’.

Tension filled the air. The throne room was packed with the finest imperial soldiers and the most loyal bodyguards, all sworn to protect their emperor with their very lives and under strict orders to kill on sight if anyone entered the throne room...and yet none of them dared to attack.

Following the Alliance’s union with the Knights of Seiros, there had been rumors abound regarding their commander, Byleth. An unstoppable warrior, a brilliant strategist who single handedly turned around a five-year war in a matter of months, a man who had been gifted power from the Goddess herself. Imperial propaganda called into question his humanity and some imperial soldiers swore that, during the Battle of Garreg Mach, he had transformed into a massive white beast before laying waste to the imperial army.

There were even rumors that the professor had been slain during the Battle of Garreg Mach but, by using the power of the goddess, was able to rise from death. When it came to Byleth, it was hard to separate fact from fiction. But whatever the case, he was alive, standing in the heart of the Empire, and wielding the legendary Sword of the Creator. This could only mean that the rumors of him bearing the Crest of Flames were also true.

“I must confess I never imagined that you would be able to pursue me this far,” Edelgard said, staring down from her throne, elevated atop a flight of stairs. “I don't mean to belittle your skills, Professor, but you've far surpassed my expectations.”

Byleth didn’t respond. Instead, he simply approached the throne. Lysithea followed him from his right while Leonie followed at his left. And behind them, Alois led the Knights of Seiros. They were invading the throne room and yet still nobody dared to attack. Whatever the validity of the rumors regarding the professor, the imperial troops felt certain on one thing: The first among them to attack would be the first to die.

“Edelgard—” Byleth started.

“If you have come to ask for my surrender, then save your breath. We have nothing to discuss.” Edelgard said shortly, rising from her throne and drawing her weapon; the legendary battle-axe Aymr.

“No.” Byleth muttered, shaking his head. “I know I can’t change your mind.”

In truth, Byleth didn’t want to kill Edelgard, but he knew her too well to even entertain the idea that she would give up. Edelgard paused, simply raising an eyebrow in response.

“I have questions,” Byleth continued.

“It’s a bit late for that,” Edelgard said dismissively. “And at this point, it no longer matters.”

“It does.”

“No. We have nothing to gain by speaking to each other. And even if I denied playing part in Jeralt’s assassination, you wouldn’t—”

“I know you weren’t behind Jeralt’s death.”

Edelgard paused, her eyes widening. This wasn’t what she had expected to hear and now she was curious. She wasn’t the only one. Upon hearing this, everyone else turned towards Byleth, staring in confusion. Alois and Leonie, especially.

“Wait, what are you talking about?” Leonie asked with a furrowed brow. “Monica was working for the Flame Emperor and the Flame Emperor was—”

Byleth simply held up a hand. Leonie hesitated, clearly not content to simply keep quiet during such a revelation, but simply closed her mouth and complied.

“I’ve been thinking about this war; why you started it, and why you felt the need to take the quickest path,” Byleth continued, turning back to Edelgard. “...How much time do you have left, Edelgard?”

At first, Edelgard gave him a puzzled expression. And she wasn’t alone. Everyone in the room, allies and enemies alike frowned in confusion at this question. After a few moments however, Edelgard’s eyes fell upon Lysithea and suddenly it clicked. The fact that Byleth would ask such a question could only mean that Lysithea had told her professor about her shortened lifespan.

“Heh, I see...” Edelgard chuckled quietly, slowly making her way down the steps of her throne.

Byleth scowled.

“This isn’t funny.” 

“Oh, but it is,” Edelgard insisted, reaching the bottom step. “I find it amusing that after all this time, you would continue to keep my secret. Even more, you seem to think that I started this war because I had no choice.”

Byleth stared at Edelgard with a look of perplexion as she began to pace back and forth.

“It’s...true that my time is limited,” Edelgard admitted after a small pause. “But in the end, it matters not. This was the only way forward. It’s just as you once said, Professor...a war was inevitable.”

Byleth frowned, he didn’t have a response to this.

“This corrupt institution must fall. This era governed by a religion of falsehoods and lies shall come to an end. By removing the goddess, I will create a world for humanity, and only then can we know true peace!”

“Is that how you justify all the lives you’ve sacrificed?” Byleth asked, glaring at Edelgard.

In the past Byleth had been sympathetic to Edelgard’s views and ideals, but he was in no mood to listen to her dogmatic preaching. He didn’t want to hear it. The only thing that mattered to him was that this war had cost the lives of his students. Nearly all of them were dead. The only ones left were Edelgard and his own Golden Deer.

“Such insolence. You would dare lecture _me_ on sacrifice?!” Edelgard spat. “Tell me then, Professor, how do _you_ justify the sacrifices made in the name of the goddess? Our current system has already claimed too many victims, your students included. Can’t you see that something had to be done?”

Byleth instinctively glanced towards Lysithea upon hearing this and Edelgard continued.

“I doubt someone like you could understand the sacrifices I’ve made. You are fortunate enough to have protected your closest friends, but my allies...the Black Eagles. They died—"

“By my hand.” Byleth interrupted, his tone unusually angry. “Because of you, I was forced to cut down my own students.”

“No, you weren’t.” Edelgard stated bluntly. “Had you simply surrendered from the start, none of this would have happened.”

Byleth glowered as Edelgard continued to pace back and forth, speaking once again.

“This war is coming to an end. No matter the victor, Fodlan shall be united. And whether it is through my rule or yours, our system of aristocracy will be torn down.”

Byleth frowned. 

“Are you saying you have already won?” Byleth questioned, almost bitterly.

Edelgard paused in the middle of her pacing, hesitating for a moment before responding.

“No. That’s just wishful thinking. Even if I do believe in your capability to create a better world, I am not content to simply place faith in others.”

“Not even your allies?”

“Placing my faith in them has only led to their demise,” Edelgard replied. “Your allies still live because you and you alone had the power to protect them. No, I must press forward on my own. I cannot leave Fodlan’s future in the hands of another, let alone the goddess’ vessel. So instead I ask you...after all these years do you still view me as your student, my teacher?”

Byleth paused. Despite everything that occured, in spite of all the bitter feelings he felt towards Edelgard...yes, she was his student. She was his friend. Byleth was born to Jeralt and thus he and his father were bound by blood, but Edelgard...she was the first person that Byleth had forged a bond with himself. In that sense, she was special. She was a connection to his own humanity. And he didn’t wish to sever this bond.

“I do.”

“I see,” Edelgard sighed with a small frown. “Then I will offer you one more chance. If you truly desire peace, then lay down your weapons and surrender. Do so and this war will end. Nobody else will need to suffer.”

Byleth frowned, glancing to Lysithea and Leonie before turning to face Edelgard once again.

“If you don’t surrender now, there are only two possible outcomes.” Edelgard stated. “Either you will be forced to kill your student...or I will be forced to kill my teacher. Do you not wish to avoid that?”

“I do,” Byleth assured her. “But I can’t abandon my students.”

“How unfortunate...” Edelgard huffed yet again, shaking her head remorsefully. “Then I suppose I have no choice but to kill you. You and your students. Release the Demonic Beasts!”

“GRAAAARRR!!!”

“RROOOAAARRR!!!”

On either side of the throne there were two of the giant bipedal Demonic Beasts. Until now, both had been sleeping but, on Edelgard’s command, a pair of pale faced mages in black robes used a dark magical spell to awaken their pets. And, with a rallying cry, the imperial soldiers charged towards the Knights of Seiros.

“Leonie, I’ll take half the knights and cover the left flank. You cover the right!” Alois commanded.

“Got it! We have to protect the professor!” Leonie cried, leading her forces.

While the two of them defended Byleth, Lysithea stayed by his side. Underneath that dress and cloak, Edelgard was heavily armored. And the best counter to a heavily armored opponent was a mage, whose magic was unaffected by physical defenses.

“Stay behind me,” Byleth muttered.

Lysithea nodded, noting that the professor seemed...unusually tense. That was because he was the only one who knew the truth of Edelgard's power. Edelgard, like Lysithea, bore two Crests...and that one of them was his own Crest of Flames. Byleth held the superior weapon and had the Divine Pulse as his trump card, but there was no denying that Edelgard was stronger than he was. Stronger...and much more ambitious. It was almost certainly a mistake to have kept Edelgard’s secret and leave his students unprepared...but there was no time for regrets. He had to end this now.

At the moment, Byleth and Lysithea were a good distance away from Edelgard and currently held a long-range advantage. Capitalizing on this, Lysithea quickly shot a Miasma spell at Edelgard. However, to both of their surprise, Edelgard jumped right past it. Kicking off from the ground, Edelgard used magic to levitate and soar towards the duo, closing the gap between them within seconds.

“Get back!” Byleth yelled, pulling Lysithea aside as Edelgard slammed Aymr into the ground.

Lysithea took the opportunity to send another Miasma blast at Edelgard, her eyes widening when Edelgard quickly cut through it with Aymr and engaged Byleth in a close ranged duel. What surprised Lysithea wasn't that Edelgard cut through her spell—she was aware that Relics had this ability—but by how swiftly the emperor was moving.

Aymr was a massive and heavy looking axe, but Edelgard was capable of wielding it effectively in one hand. And, despite being so heavily armored, she was moving so quickly that one might think she was an assassin. Lysithea didn’t understand...how could a Crest of Seiros—minor or major—give someone so much power? Was it possible that the mysterious imperial mages had augmented her strength in some way?

Edelgard’s axe swings weren’t as fast as Byleth’s sword swings, but they were quick enough and the difference in weight and power meant that the professor had to fight more defensively than usual, placing him at a disadvantage. As the two fought, Lysithea cast Swarm, sending dark magical insects to distract Edelgard, before striking at her with several Miasma blasts.

Each of these attacks was either dodged or countered as Edelgard cut through them with Aymr or cancelled them out with her own Fire spells. All the while, Edelgard’s eyes remained locked on the professor. She wasn’t even looking at Lysithea and the Swarm spell didn't seem to be distracting her at all.

Something strange was going on. The way Edelgard was fighting, it was as though she could see the entire battlefield at once. Thankfully, Lysithea had some experience dealing with an opponent like this since the professor was her sparring partner...but still, how was it that _Edelgard_ was also capable of this omnipercipient-like state?

“Reinforcements!” One of the imperial soldiers shouted.

Hearing this, Lysithea turned her head to see that the Alliance’s main forces and reserve forces had entered the throne room from the left while the main forces for the Knights of Seiros’ had entered from the right. It wasn’t the exact formation they had planned, but they had managed to position their troops in a three-way pincer attack around the imperial forces, with their snipers likely approaching the back wall.

“Lysithea!” Byleth shouted.

Lysithea gasped, her eyes widened with sheer terror. In the single second she had looked away, Edelgard had broken from her engagement with Byleth, closed the gap between herself and Lysithea, and was in the middle of a charging attack, her axe swinging down—

_CLANG!_

Byleth jumped in the way at the last moment and blocked the attack with his sword—but this wasn’t enough. Edelgard kept running, kept charging, pushing her momentum and sending the professor sliding back with her overwhelming force. She was soon able to drive him into a wall. Their weapons were locked, but Edelgard followed up on this attack with a furious headbutt into Byleth’s chest, goring him with her horned ornament.

“Argh!” Byleth gasped.

“Professor!” Lysithea shouted, approaching from the side and managing to hit Edelgard with Miasma, while her ornament was stuck in Byleth's chest.

Edelgard was knocked back but landed elegantly on her feet while Lysithea rushed to heal Byleth’s wounds.

“Leave it.” Byleth muttered, pushing her hand away. “We can’t afford to take our eyes off of her.”

Lysithea gave a shaky nod in agreement as she turned to face Edelgard. The professor was right, she had only looked away for a moment and it nearly cost Lysithea her life. The battle paused as Edelgard eyes narrowed, analyzing her opponents and considering her options.

“She’s stronger than any of us could have imagined,” Lysithea murmured. “And she’s unusually observant, just like you, Professor.”

“You’ve noticed...” Byleth nodded, pleased to see how quickly Lysithea was catching on.

“Yes, and I’ve also noticed that both her movements and axe swings are quite linear,” Lysithea added. “She can’t change direction when soaring forward and her swings transition based on weight and momentum.”

Despite their situation, Byleth couldn’t help but give a faint smile. Leave it to his brightest student to pick up on such intricate details during a battle. She had already reassessed Edelgard’s abilities and had not only recognized the emperor's uncanny perception but had also been shrewd enough to link it to her professor’s, despite being unaware of Edelgard’s second Crest.

“You’re right, but she can still move quickly, so our window of opportunity is small,.” Byleth cautioned.

“Then it’s probably best if I lead and you follow up. You’re better at coordinating attacks, Professor.”

Byleth nodded, his gaze fixed on Edelgard who had taken a defensive position, waiting for the two of them to attack. Lysithea obliged and cast a Miasma spell, which Edelgard sidestepped before kicking off once again, flying towards the duo. Lysithea immediately cast Hades, summoning a tornado of darkness in front of Edelgard’s trajectory. Edelgard was ready for this, however, and responded by swinging Aymr downward, cleaving her way through the spell.

Taking note of the position of Aymr, Byleth used Sublime Heaven, aiming just above the head of Edelgard's axe with a horizontal slash of the whip. Edelgard, knowing she couldn’t block the attack in time, instead continued with her momentum, plunging Aymr into the ground and using it to vault herself over the Sword of the Creator’s whip. Upon landing, Edelgard cast Luna, summoning a portal above Lysithea and her former professor.

“Agh!” Lysithea gasped, being pulled into the air as the vortex sucked her in.

“Lysithea!” Byleth shouted, grabbing onto her hand and flinging the Sword of the Creator’s whip around a nearby pillar to keep both of them tethered.

“H-Hang on...one...moment...” Lysithea grunted, pointing Thyrsus towards the portal.

Lysithea murmured a spell and within moments the portal disappeared, causing the two to fall to the ground. They didn't have time to rest, however, for Edelgard was already charging towards them again. For a moment, it seemed as though they wouldn’t be able to recover in time before Edelgard brought her axe upon them, however—

_Clink! Clink!_

Edelgard’s eyes widened and she abruptly rolled to the side, dodging several arrows. Neither she nor Byleth could see them, but they could both sense the Alliance snipers hidden in the shadows or on the windowsills in the back of the throne room, who had intervened at just the right moment. Edelgard weaved past several more arrows and blocked others with her gauntlets as Byleth helped Lysithea to her feet.

“This impudence will not stand!” Edelgard shouted, casting Hades at the back wall of the throne room.

Edelgard, recognizing Shamir as the greatest threat, had targeted her specifically. The palace wall she and her snipers were perched on deteriorated, sending them crashing to the ground. As they tried to recover, Edelgard continued the assault with a Fire spell.

“Hyah!” Catherine shouted, leaping in front of the spell and cutting through it with Thunderbrand.

“Hmph, another one of the goddess’ lapdogs,” Edelgard scoffed. “You dare to raise your blade against the Adrestian Emperor?”

“I don’t care who you are,” Catherine hissed. “Nobody gets away with attacking my partner, which means Thunderbrand and I are going to have to teach you a lesson!”

Catherine immediately jumped into the fray, slashing wildly at Edelgard with her Relic, pushing her back. Edelgard could quickly see that Catherine was another aggressive fighter and very fast as well. This speed was further augmented by the power of her Heroes Relic and this put Edelgard on the defensive. The emperor's armor was durable—and even considered legendary—but testing it against Thunderbrand would be unwise.

The professor jumped in, aiding Catherine in her assault. With the two of them on the offensive, Edelgard was starting to feel overwhelmed. She leapt back from the pair of them and cast Luna, once again, creating another portal. This time, however, Lysithea was quick on the draw and quickly closed the portal with her own counter spell before following up with a Miasma attack. Edelgard cut through this with Aymr and pulled out her second weapon...the Sword of Seiros.

“That sword...it's—where is she?!” Catherine demanded. “Where is Lady Rhea?!”

“I cannot permit her to return,” Edelgard dismissed. “If I am to create a world where humanity is free, I must put an end to the worship of the false goddess and all of her scions!”

“If that’s the case, then I’ll just have to cut you down. For Lady Rhea, and for the goddess!” Catherine declared, jumping in and reengaging her battle with Edelgard.

Byleth followed suit and the three of them were at it again. Dual wielding a battle-axe and a sword at the same time was certainly unorthodox, but Edelgard handled herself quite well, managing to keep up with both Byleth and Catherine, despite the former’s incredible strength and the latter’s awesome speed.

Once again, Edelgard was on the defensive but she was proving to be a difficult opponent. It was clear that, as formidable as the professor and Catherine were, they didn’t have much experience fighting as a team. Compared to Lysithea, Catherine’s movements weren’t well coordinated with Byleth’s and they were out of sync with each other. By utilizing chaotic movements and unorthodox attacks, Edelgard was able to not only throw them off, but keep Lysithea from intervening with her spells.

“Hmph...” Lysithea frowned, keeping a close eye on the ensuing battle.

So long as the three of them were tangled up at close-range, it was too risky to cast any spells. Lysithea could rely on the professor to keep out of harm’s way, but the same wasn’t true with Catherine. And, despite being in a defensive position, Edelgard was still able to control the flow of battle. Any spell Lysithea cast was sure to be used against them. She would just have to look for openings or weaknesses in Edelgard’s fighting style. 

The problem was...Edelgard didn’t seem to have any weaknesses. She was perfect, in a sense. Observant, level headed, never once losing her cool, and reading the ever-changing situation flawlessly. Despite how fast paced the battle was, it never felt as though Edelgard was simply relying on reflexes or muscle memory. It was as though she had planned all of her movements and weapons swings in advance. This unusual way of fighting...it was eerily similar to the professor. Suddenly, Lysithea recalled a conversation she once had with him.

_“This ability...it allows you to see all incoming attacks, correct?”_

_“No, I can’t ‘see’ beyond my field of vision. It’s more of a ‘feeling’.”_

_“You mean you can sense it?”_

_“I suppose, but it’s not the same as detecting magic. I can just somehow perceive incoming threats and react to them.”_

Thinking about it that way...maybe Lysithea _could_ use her magic to aid Catherine and the professor. Lysithea began circling around the dueling trio, repositioning herself so she was facing Edelgard’s back. Trusting the professor to take advantage of the opening she would create, Lysithea let loose a Miasma spell, aiming just behind Edelgard’s feet.

Despite having her back turned, Edelgard had no trouble perceiving this threat and jumped backwards, over the spell.This was to be expected and, just as Lysithea hoped, Byleth and Catherine had been able to see Lysithea’s spell coming before Edelgard could sense it. Knowing what Edelgard would do next, Byleth unleashed Sublime Heaven, sending a horizontal whip slash at Edelgard while Catherine charged in.

Edelgard couldn't dodge the attack in the air, so instead she positioned her sword to snag the Sword of the Creator’s whip. Upon landing, she tugged, trying to pry the Sword of the Creator from Byleth’s hand. Before she could, however, Catherine jumped in, attacking from Edelgard’s left flank. Unwilling to drop the Sword of Seiros, Edelgard instead raised Aymr to protect her face—her only vulnerable area—before Catherine slashed her across the stomach.

The power of Thunderbrand was enough to send Edelgard flying backwards in Lysithea’s direction. Taking advantage of this opportunity, Lysithea shot another Miasma spell at Edelgard’s back, causing her to face plant onto the ground, where she lay still.

“It’s over...” Catherine sighed with relief.

Byleth paid no heed to this, however, and charged towards Edelgard’s broken body, sword prepared as he readied himself to put an end to this. He was too late, however, and—to the surprise of everyone except Byleth—Edelgard rolled to the side and leapt back to her feet, panting heavily.

Catherine’s attack with Thunderbrand had torn part of Edelgard’s dress, revealing golden armor underneath. Thunderbrand had torn the middle portion of her armor clean off as well, revealing a gaping hole in her stomach. Edelgard was bleeding horribly, but this didn’t last long. Within a few seconds, the wound healed itself and Edelgard was completely rejuvenated.

“You’ve gotta be kidding...” Catherine muttered in exasperation.

Byleth frowned. Even _he_ didn’t heal that quickly. No, ‘healing’ was hardly an accurate description for what Edelgard had done. 'Regenerate' was a more apt phrase for what just happened. Whether it was her Crests working in harmony, the power of her Relic or the power of her Sacred Weapon, Byleth didn’t know...but it was clear that Edelgard wouldn’t truly be defeated until they landed a fatal blow.

“I’m going to put an end to this here and now!” Edelgard declared, leaping high into the air and plunging Aymr into the ground.

Byleth was able to dive out of the way of Edelgard’s attack just in time. However—

_BOOM!_

As Aymr came crashing down, the entire palace began to quake. Soldiers from the Empire, Alliance, and Church alike stumbled to the floor, with only the most heavily armored troops being able to withstand the intense tremors.

“AAAAAGGGHHH!!!”

As a result of the earthquake, the palace structure began to give way, with pieces of the ceiling raining down and crushing troops on both sides. Byleth slashed apart the collapsing stone where we could while Lysithea cast a Luna spell far above their heads, allowing the portal to swallow the falling debris that threatened them.

“Teach, look out!” Claude called.

Byleth managed to leap out of harm’s way just in time as Edelgard swung her axe at him once again, but tripped in the process as the palace continued to shake violently. Edelgard approached him, her heavy armor keeping her rooted to the ground. Before she could attack again, however, Catherine leapt back into the fray.

“Kyah!”

Catherine slashed wildly at Edelgard, but unfortunately her aggressive fighting style proved to be poorly suited for the current environment. She was off balance, unstable, and Edelgard had no difficulty avoiding her attacks before countering with a powerful axe swing. Catherine defended herself with Thunderbrand, but due to her uneven footing, she was flung back from the force of Edelgard’s attack.

“Urgh!”

Catherine slammed into one of the palace pillars, Thunderbrand clanging loudly onto the floor and blood trickling from the back of her head as she was knocked out. Edelgard gave Catherine a disparaging look before making her way towards the unconscious knight, prepared to strike with Aymr. There was no point in just leaving her. She and the other knights would never see reason. And if she wasn’t killed now, she would just present more problems in the future.

Edelgard was suddenly distracted as a loud whistle echoed throughout the throne room. Just as Edelgard turned to face the source of this noise, she was forced to jump to the side when Claude unleashed one of Failnaught’s arrows at her. Edelgard scowled, but before she could retaliate, Byleth attacked from behind with a horizontal whip slash.

Upon dodging this attack, Edelgard turned to her former professor and kicked off, flying towards him, Aymr at the ready. Knowing that he couldn’t counter a frontal assault, Byleth dived to the ground, rolling beneath Edelgard as she flew over him. Edelgard turned around mid-flight, landing on her feet and skidding to a halt. As she prepared for her next attack, however, an awful screeching was heard.

“RAAAWWRRR!!!”

Edelgard glanced up to the source of the noise. With the palace ceiling destroyed, she had a clear view of a majestic white beast soaring through the cloudless sky. She was able to jump out of the way just in time as this beast—a white wyvern—swooped down into the throne room and snapped its teeth at her. The beast continued it's assault and unleashed a torrent of blue flames from its mouth as it soared past her.

To defend herself from the beast's flame attack, Edelgard brought the flat of Aymr’s axe head up to her face while the rest of her armor protected her body. She realized now that Claude hadn’t whistled simply to distract her, but to summon his pet. Sure enough, by the time Edelgard lowered her axe, Claude was already airborne, riding on the back of this winged beast, and immune to the ongoing tremors.

_Twang!_

“Grrrraargh!”

Edelgard dived to the ground to avoid another one of Failnaught’s arrows as well as a jet of blue flame. She couldn’t help but notice an insufferable look of smugness on Claude’s face as he and his steed soared past her again. But rather than continue his assault, Claude instead directed his wyvern towards Catherine. The wyvern grabbed the fallen knight with its claws while Claude steered the beast to bring her to safety.

“You won’t escape!” Edelgard shouted, holding Aymr skyward.

The Relic glowed red and bolts of lightning began to rain down from the sky, focused on Claude and his steed.

_BANG!_

“BAH!” Claude gasped, swerving to avoid one of the lightning strikes.

_BANG!_

_BANG!_

_BANG!_

Edelgard rained bolt after bolt of lightning. Claude was a skilled flier and managed to avoid each of these attacks, but Edelgard was beginning to corner him. Before Edelgard could summon more lightning, however, she was forced to jump aside to avoid an incoming Miasma spell. The tremors had finally subsided and Lysithea was back on her feet, offering herself as a distraction so Claude could get Catherine to safety.

Lysithea braced herself for combat, holding Thyrsus in one hand and her sword in the other. With Edelgard a fair distance away, Lysithea once again had a ranged advantage. However she was all too aware that Edelgard could close the gap between them in an instant and was more than capable of cutting through her most powerful spells. And when it came to close combat, Lysithea certainly didn't favor her odds.

And yet...Edelgard _didn’t_ attack. She didn’t lunge at her opponent, summon lightning, or even cast any spells. Edelgard simply stood there, staring at Lysithea with a small frown. Her eyes were downcast, eyebrows likewise slanted downwards, and her expression was soft. She seemed rather...sad. Or perhaps remorseful. Lysithea raised an eyebrow in confusion, when suddenly Edelgard spoke.

“Lysithea. You and I are so alike. We could have walked the same path.”

Her tone was one of lament, and Lysithea’s eyes widened.

“We're alike?” Lysithea repeated, transfixed on the woman whose hair was so much like her own. “You don't mean to tell me...it can't be!”

Unfathomable power...hair without pigment...and a hatred for Crests that ran so deep that she was willing to plunge Fodlan into war. So that was the reason behind all of it. Edelgard, like Lysithea, bore two Crests. And only only that, but based on the way she fought, it seemed likely that she bore the same Crest as—

“Yet now, we are at a crossroads. There's no turning back.” Edelgard stated, conviction returning to her face. “Must we fight each other for the things we believe in?”

“That's exactly what's going to happen. And I will defeat you, Edelgard!” Lysithea shouted, baring her teeth.

Lysithea didn’t hesitate in her response. If Edelgard had been looking for sympathy, then she only achieved the opposite effect. The Empire had bolstered its army with Demonic Beasts, and these Demonic Beasts had been created by the imperial mages and their blood experiments. The fact that Edelgard would allow anyone to suffer such cruelty after experiencing it herself firsthand only made Lysithea hate her and the Empire even more.

Edelgard kicked off once again, but Lysithea retaliated by casting a Luna spell within Edelgard’s flight path. Rather than simply flying into the portal, however, Edelgard dispelled it with her own magic and soared onward, slamming her axe down.

Lysithea leapt out of the way, dodging the attack, but Edelgard followed up with a sword thrust. Lysithea countered this with Soulblade, managing to knock Edelgard’s arm away, but the emperor was quick to swing at her once again with Aymr. Lysithea ducked the attack and retaliated with a Miasma blast, which Edelgard sidestepped before swinging Aymr once more. Lysithea tried to counter with Soulblade again...but this was a mistake.

_SHING!_

“Agh!”

Aymr cut cleanly through Lysithea’s sword, snapping it in half. The only reason Lysithea didn’t share the same fate was due to the force of the attack knocking her on her back. In a state of desperation, Lysithea tossed aside the remains of her sword and began wildly firing Miasma spells at Edelgard, who effortlessly cut through all of them with Aymr as she closed in. Edelgard raised her axe and swung down at Lysithea, who closed her eyes, bracing herself—

_CLANG!_

Lysithea blinked, slowly opening her eyes. She expected to see the professor standing over her, but instead it was...

“H-Hilda?!” Lysithea gasped.

“Yeah, yeah, how...nnngg...unlike me...” Hilda grunted as she and Freikugel clashed against Edelgard and Aymr. “Now...get...going!”

“Hmph. I won’t allow it!” Edelgard yelled, slashing at Hilda with the Sword of Seiros.

“Yah!”

But this too was blocked as Marianne joined in and held Edelgard off with Blutgang. Edelgard glowered at the pair of them, but before she could retaliate, a third shout was heard.

“Hurrghaaah!”

While Hilda and Marianne held her off, Raphael came charging between them, slamming his fist directly in Edelgard’s face.

“Ugh!” Edelgard gasped, staggering back.

The attacks didn’t let up. Before Edelgard could recover from this blow, she sensed an arrow approaching, threatening to penetrate the side of her head. She managed to lean back just in time to avoid lethal damage as the arrow grazed past her, leaving a small cut on the bridge of her nose. Edelgard glared in the direction of the sniper, spotting Ignatz peeking behind out of the pillars.

Edelgard sent a fireball in Ignatz’s direction, but this was interrupted by Lorenz, who countered the spell by casting Sagittae. Lorenz then quickly proceeded with the Ragnarok spell, forcing Edelgard to jump back as the ground beneath her exploded.

_Twang twang!_

Leonie joined the conflict as well, weaving in and out as she pelted Edelgard with a volley of arrows. Edelgard raised her gauntlets, protecting her face from Leonie’s arrows and gritted her teeth in annoyance. The professor’s students had joined the fray. Meanwhile her bodyguards were being driven off by Alois, Seteth, and the rest of the Knights of Seiros while Shamir stayed behind to protect Catherine. Edelgard was outnumbered now and if things continued the way they were, she would be backed into a corner.

“Lysithea, are you alright?” Claude asked, hovering on his wyvern as he and Byleth joined the rest of the group and Byleth helped Lysithea to her feet.

“I’m fine but...I think I now understand why Edelgard is so powerful,” Lysithea noted with a hint of warning in her tone. “Claude, Professor, it’s likely that she too bears the Crest of Flames.”

Claude’s eyes widened and he stared at Lysithea with a look of disbelief. Even he who prided himself on expecting the unexpected had difficulty accepting what he just heard

“No, that...that can’t be possible...” Claude denied slowly, though his tone was starting to sound less like doubt, but realization. “Lysithea, are you sure about this?”

“It’s only a theory but...I’m fairly certain,” Lysithea confirmed.

“That would explain a lot, but how can you—”

“We will need to catch her off guard,” Byleth interrupted.

Claude nodded while Lysithea gave a small frown. The professor seemed remarkably unfazed by this revelation, the usual subtle signs of surprise missing from his face. Was he just being more stoic than usual in the heat of battle or...was it possible that the professor had already known about this? Or at least suspected it?

“What’s the plan, Teach?” Claude prompted.

Byleth frowned for a few seconds, observing the fight taking place between Edelgard and the rest of the Golden Deer, before turning towards Lysithea.

“Do you remember our training session back in the monastery?” Byleth asked.

Lysithea nodded, obviously he was referring to the fight they had long ago when she had managed to catch the professor off guard and knock him to the ground.

“We’ll use the same strategy you used then.” Byleth said.

“Wait, hold on, what are you two talking about?” Claude frowned.

“Just focus on backing Edelgard into a corner and keep her busy,” Byleth instructed. “Lysithea will handle the rest.”

“As long as you can prevent her from cutting through my spells, we should be fine.” Lysithea affirmed.

“Understood.” Claude nodded, his expression unsure but trusting, and optimistic. “I’ll assist the others in pushing her back and leave the rest in your capable hands. Good luck!”

With that, Claude and his wyvern took off and rejoined the battle. The Golden Deer had formed a perimeter around Edelgard and were slowly, but surely pushing her back. Edelgard cast Bolganone, unleashing a stream of flames that she manipulated to create a wall of fire, separating her from her pursuers.

The intensity of the flames was enough to instantly burn Leonie and Ignatz’s arrows to ash, but Claude simply flew over the flames and continued pelting at Edelgard while his wyvern let loose another stream of fire. Edelgard dodged the arrows and cast Bolganone once again to counter the wyvern’s flames with her own.

The next moment Marianne doused the wall of flames with a Blizzard spell and, shortly after, Byleth shot the Sword of the Creator’s whip directly towards Edelgard while Lysithea assisted with a Miasma spell. Edelgard deflected the whip with the Sword of Seiros and cut through the spell with Aymr but quickly jumped out of the way to avoid several more arrow shots.

Edelgard started panting...they were beginning to tire her out. But if she could kill just one of the professor’s students, she had a plan to turn this battle around...by using the professor’s own power against him.

More arrows, more magic, Edelgard was being attacked from all angles. Ignatz and Leonie were aiming for her head, Claude targeted her from the sky, and Lorenz and Lysithea were unleashing a torrent of Fire and Miasma spells respectively, targeting Edelgard's feet. Each spell exploded as it hit the ground, increasing the blast radius and forcing Edelgard to stay on her toes.

At the moment, Edelgard's best bet was using Aymr to start another earthquake and disorient her opponents...but as long as Claude remained airborne, this wasn’t an option. He would be unaffected by the tremors and would simply take her out when she was exposed. If Edelgard was going to fall back on that strategy, she would need to take care of Claude’s pet first.

While the Golden Deer continued to overwhelm the emperor with their combined forces, Byleth made his way towards her, sword at the ready. Edelgard cast Hades directly in front of him, but Byleth simply cut through it. In response, Edelgard slammed Aymr into two nearby pillars, causing them to both fall in Byleth’s direction.

“Hyah!”

“Ooorraaah!”

Charging ahead, Hilda destroyed one of the pillars with Freikugal, while Raphael caught the other and tossed it harmlessly to the side. While the two busied themselves with this, Edelgard cast Luna, hoping to absorb them while they were preoccupied...but instead her spell fizzled and faded away as Marianne cast Silence from a distance.

Byleth engaged Edelgard from the front while Lorenz pelted Fire spells from her left and Lysithea blasted Miasma from her right. With no other options, Edelgard was forced to step back. She was getting pushed...and if she didn’t start pushing back soon, she would find herself up against the wall.

“Raaaaaaarrrgh!”

Edelgard ducked another stream of fire. Once again, Claude was proving himself to be quite a nuisance. While the mages and archers provided support from the sides, Claude provided aerial support from the back, keeping Edelgard from pushing past Byleth. He rained down a volley of arrows while his wyvern continued with its fire blasts, further pushing Edelgard. With her magic unavailable and few other options, Edelgard chucked her axe directly at Claude.

“Yikes!” Claude exclaimed, swerving out of the way to avoid the attack.

“Grraaarrrgghhh!!!”

The wyvern let out a roar of pain as the Relic grazed its wing, sending the beast plummeting to the ground. During its descent, the wyvern crashed into a pillar, bucking Claude off in the process.

“I got you, Claude!” Hilda shouted, rushing towards him and catching the Alliance leader in the nick of time.

Byleth, however, couldn’t afford to take his eyes off Edelgard, who lunged at him with the Sword of Seiros, desperate to push through. Catching him off guard, she briefly managed to force her way past him, but was immediately halted by a wall of ice as Marianne cast Fimbulvetr. Edelgard smashed through the ice wall with her sword but immediately pulled back as she was ambushed by more spells and arrows. Byleth took the opportunity to take the offensive once again and pushed her once more.

Finally, Edelgard was cornered, her back to the wall... but she refused to give in so easily. Byleth activated Sublime Heaven and shot his sword’s whip directly at her, but Edelgard jumped to the side. As she expected, the Sword of the Creator was powerful enough to penetrate stone and was now lodged in the palace wall.

Before Edelgard could press her advantage though, she was forced to duck several more arrows and sidestep one of Lorenz's fireballs. Next came a Miasma spell, but this time, instead of aiming at her feet, Lysithea now aimed directly at Edelgard’s head. Edelgard ducked this, much like she had ducked the arrows...but this proved to be a fatal error.

“Arrrgghhh!!” Edelgard gasped.

She had been so focused on simply dodging the attacks that she hadn’t considered what Lysithea’s true motive had been. All this time, the mages had been aiming at Edelgard’s feet, using the explosive properties of their spells to limit her movement and corner her. Once they succeeded in that, Lysithea changed focus and had fired the spell at the emperor’s head. However, Lysithea’s target hadn’t been Edelgard herself, but the wall behind her. When Edelgard ducked the attack, the Miasma spell hit the wall and exploded. The blast radius had hit Edelgard directly, which sent her flying forward and landed face first on the stone floor.

“Nnnggg...” Edelgard grunted, panting heavily.

Byleth retracted the Sword of the Creator’s whip and the Golden Deer began forming a tight circle around the fallen emperor. Edelgard glanced first towards Byleth, whose expression was unreadable and then towards the others. Lorenz wore a look of disgust, Leonie looked furious, Ignatz timid, Marianne sorrowful, Raphael sad, while Lysithea had a look of anger...and pity.

Perhaps it was petty of her, but it pained Edelgard to see Lysithea and the professor standing side by side like this. The man who had once saved her life, who bore the same Crest, who was once her closest friend...walking the same path as a woman who was so like Edelgard in many ways. It could have been _her_. She attempted to stand up, but—

“Urgh!” Edelgard gasped as her body gave way and collapsed.

“Edelgard, give up! We don't want to kill you!” Claude shouted as he and Hilda joined the others.

“But...I must kill you.” Edelgard heaved, using the Sword of Seiros to prop herself up and rise to her feet. “If I don't, the righteous world I dream of will never see the light. Come at me with everything you have. For one of us, this is the end!”

This was it. Edelgard’s last remaining strategy. Her final trump card. She lunged at Lysithea with everything she had and, just as she predicted, Byleth stepped in to protect his student, locking blades with the emperor. And, just in time, Marianne's Silence spell had worn off.

“White hair, short stature...and even two Crests. Heh, I see you’ve developed a preference in women, Professor,” Edelgard whispered in a spiteful mocking tone, her eyes darting towards Lysithea. “But I wonder if you can protect her as well.”

Just as Edelgard had hoped, her threat had managed to get under the professor's skin. His eyes widened for a moment before narrowing with rage and the battle intensified. Claude assisted with an arrow, which Edelgard dodged, but before the other Golden Deer could join in, the battle ended as quickly as it began.

_Clang! Swish! Clang! Swoosh! Swoosh! CLANG!_

With a mighty power attack, Byleth knocked Edelgard’s sword out of her hand and sent her stumbling back. Edelgard grimaced for a moment before giving a small smirk and raising her hand in the air, preparing to cast a spell—

“Aargh!” Edelgard cried as Claude shot another arrow to her shoulder, piercing her armor, and knocking her back against the wall.

“It’s over, Edelgard.” Claude sighed wearily as he and Byleth cornered her.

“Indeed. ...I have finally won.” Edelgard said calmly.

"Indeed..." Edelgard coughed, faltering only for a moment before standing tall and proud again; her frown contrasting her tone of confidence. "...I have finally won."

Claude simply raised a confused eyebrow and Byleth readied his sword when suddenly—

_WHOOSH!_

“CLAUDE LOOK OUT!” Hilda screamed.

“Huh—BAH!” Claude cried as Aymr soared at him from behind, striking him square in the back and flinging him against the wall.

Edelgard gave a satisfied smirk as the Golden Deer stared in horror at their leader’s broken body. Byleth now understood what Edelgard had been doing. She had kept her attacks focused on Lysithea to draw Byleth away from the real target, Claude. The 'spell' she was casting hadn't been a spell at all, rather she had been recalling her Relic, using this ability to strike Claude from behind. It was a clever tactic, but as long as Byleth had the Divine Pulse, he still had time to stop her—

~~~

_Clang! Swish! Clang! Swoosh! Swoosh! CLANG!_

As time reversed, Byleth and Edelgard’s sword fight repeated itself, once again ending when Byleth disarmed Edelgard, knocking her sword from her hand. And, just as before, Edelgard was sent stumbling backwards. Byleth rushed in, ready to stop her from recalling Aymr. Edelgard lifted her hand once more, and Byleth quickly slashed where her hand would be-—but found himself striking air instead.

“URGH!” Byleth gasped as an intense pain swept over him.

Byleth eyes widened and he glanced down in horror, realizing that Edelgard hadn’t been trying to recall Aymr at all, but had merely moved her hand to withdraw a blue, gilded dagger, which she then plunged right into his heart. But...this wasn’t right. This wasn’t the course of events that had taken place before. Why? Why had this happened? How...was it possible?

“We share the same Crest...and so I too bear witness to the flow of time,” Edelgard whispered into his ear as she pulled him close.

Byleth grunted as Edelgard used the power of her Crest to draw out his lifeforce and replenish her stamina, her expression one of twisted glee and triumph. His worst nightmare had come to pass once again. The Divine Pulse had failed him, it was too soon to use it again, and now...he was going to die.

“This time, it _is_ over. Goodbye...my teacher,” Edelgard bid him farewell, her expression shifting to one of solemn remorse as she removed her dagger.

The next moment, Edelgard kicked the professor in the chest and Byleth stumbled backwards, toppling onto his back. Several voices immediately cried out in response.

“PROFESSOR!”

“TEACH!”

“BYLETH!”

The Golden Deer immediately rushed to their professor’s side, surrounding their teacher while Lysithea knelt beside him, pulling him into her arms and stared into his half-lidded eyes. Byleth placed a hand on her cheek, looking at her and the other students, each of them wearing of a look of shock, horror, and heartbreak.

“I’m sorry...I...can't go on...” Byleth gasped weakly.

“N...No, don’t—don't exert yourself, Professor. Y-You’ll be OK!” Lysithea stammered, applying white magic to his wound.

Byleth gazed up at her sadly as Lysithea’s tears spilled on his face and he was reminded of Jeralt’s death.

“My students...thank you...for everything...” Byleth whispered as his eyelids began to droop and his arm went limp.

“You’ll be fine! You...I—Marianne, help! I need help!” Lysithea pleaded.

“O-Oh...I...” Marianne stuttered.

“Please!” Lysithea begged, and Marianne nodded weakly, kneeling alongside her, and channeling her own magic.

“Lysithea, Marianne...is he...?” Leonie asked, her voice cautious.

“He’s going to be fine!” Lysithea insisted, but Marianne just frowned.

As the two of them placed their hands on his chest, they managed to seal the wound with their healing spells...but neither of them could feel a heartbeat.

“Lysithea, we can’t...” Marianne explained softly.

Ignatz let out a startled gasp and Hilda placed a hand to her mouth in horror.

“Do you mean to say that our professor...he has perished?” Lorenz asked tentatively.

Marianne gave a small and solemn nod, blinking back tears.

“I’m sorry, but there’s nothing I can—”

“You can’t just give up without even trying!” Lysithea screamed angrily as, with trembling hands, she desperately attempted to revive the professor.

Marianne winced, but simply lowered her head and didn’t respond. She felt so...weak and useless. The professor had done so much for them, had brought them all together, and had given Marianne the courage to keep pressing forward...and yet now she could do nothing for him.

While the Golden Deer mourned their professor, Edelgard had recalled Aymr to her hand, but didn’t attack. There was no need to continue, she had already won. There was nothing the Church or the Alliance could do at this point. Even if she was outnumbered, without the professor they stood no chance. And so, she simply allowed them their moment of grieving.

_“Perhaps you'll say that that's what friends do. They look out for each other and save each other. But if I saw you getting attacked, I wouldn't risk my neck to save you.”_

_“Yes, you would.”_

Hilda sniffled, thinking back to a conversation she once had with the professor. She remembered how he had responded so matter-of-factly, as if he knew, beyond reason, that he could count on her. Even when Hilda pleaded with him not to overestimate her, not to put his expectations on her...

_“I won't expect anything, but I believe in you.”_

No matter how many times Hilda slacked off or let him down, he always had faith in her. Something few others did and...perhaps it was for good reason. The professor had believed in her, had counted on her...and now he was dead.

Meanwhile Ignatz was beginning to panic. Having always lacked confidence of his own, he had placed his faith in the professor. Byleth was young and yet so wise and accomplished. Everyone looked up to him as an inspiration. With the professor in command, everyone believed they could win this war. But if someone as strong as the professor could get killed...what hope did he or the others have?

Lorenz quickly noticed this loss of morale not just in Ignatz, but in the others as well. The professor may have been a mere commoner by blood, but he was a role model and the very epitome of nobility. Without him, the others needed a leader to step in and take his place...and alas, Lorenz was not that leader. He turned to the man next to him, the only one who could possibly fill the professor’s shoes. Claude.

Claude gazed down at Byleth in astonishment, as if hoping that some miracle would happen, that perhaps some god—or heck even the goddess—would intervene and return Teach to them. Teach always pulled through with some kind of miracle...didn’t he? Somehow, it had never even occurred to Claude that Teach could fall in battle. He couldn’t die...he was too important. If Teach died, then all of Claude’s dreams and ambitions would die with him.

...No, there was more to it than that. More than losing a friend, more than seeing his ambitions fail. This feeling...it was as though Claude had just lost a brother. Even if they weren’t related by blood, Teach had been more of a brother to him than any of his siblings. And it was that, more than anything, that weighed on Claude’s heart as he stared down at his fallen comrade.

“It’s not over yet, we can’t give up now!” Raphael announced suddenly, earning the attention of everyone in the room. “We gotta stay strong, it’s what the professor would want.”

No matter how tough things were, they had to keep moving forward. Raphael knew he wasn’t fit to be a leader, he didn’t have the smarts for it, but with the professor gone, someone had to step up and look after the others in his stead...and finish what they started.

“He’s right.” Claude agreed solemnly. “There’s no going back now.”

“You won’t get away with this, Edelgard. We _will_ have our revenge!” Leonie declared, tightly gripping her bow.

_Twang twang twang!_

_Twang!_

Leonie let loose a volley of arrows at Edelgard with Ignatz assisting her. It proved to be no use, however, as Edelgard effortlessly swatted Leonie’s arrows away with her gauntlets and, to the shock of the Golden Deer, caught Ignatz’s arrow with ease, before it could hit her face.

“You’re weak. You lack the power to face me,” Edelgard stated, snapping the arrow in half and retrieving the Sword of Seiros.

Edelgard had brushed them off so easily. After all the hard work and training Leonie endured, after vowing to protect Captain Jeralt’s child...was she truly so helpless?

“Yaargh!” Leonie cried, firing another bombardment of arrows.

_Twang! Twang! Twang twang twang twang!_

Edelgard slowly approached them, using the flat of her blade to effortlessly block the incoming arrows as she closed the distance between them. Leonie began shaking slightly...it was as though the emperor wasn’t even trying, like she was just toying with them. And nobody was coming to Leonie’s aid. Ignatz, with trembling hands, had dropped his bow in terror upon seeing Edelgard’s display of dominance. It seemed as though everyone was either too intimidated or too distraught to fight.

“Claude, this is your final chance,” Edelgard warned him. “Call off your troops and leave. Go now, with my blessing. Bury the professor with the dignity he deserves. Or you can join him in dea—”

_Whizz!_

Lysithea let loose a Miasma spell, but Edelgard merely cut through it with Aymr, just as easily as she had blocked Leonie’s arrows.

“Shut up...” Lysithea whispered shakily, her teeth bared and tears rolling down her cheeks. “I refuse to submit! I won’t tarnish the professor’s sacrifice by giving in!”

Lysithea let loose a barrage of Miasma spells as quickly as she could, using both Thyrsus and her free hand to cast them. Seeing Lysithea’s determination, Leonie assisted her with another volley of arrows while Lorenz rained fireballs onto Edelgard.

Using Aymr and the Sword of Seiros, Edelgard blocked these attacks just as easily as before and retaliated by slamming Aymr into the ground, creating a shockwave that sent the others stumbling back. Quickly, while they were still unbalanced, Edelgard sent three fireballs in rapid succession at Lorenz, Leonie, and Lysithea.

"Argh!"

Lorenz was hit directly and fell onto his back. Leonie managed to dodge the spell but, due to her unstable footing, tripped in the process. Lysithea tried to counter the attack with her own Miasma spell but acted too late. The spell's collision occurred too close to Lysithea and the explosion sent her flying back, landing next to Catherine’s discarded Hero's Relic.

“I do not relish the suffering of war, but you left me with no alternative.” Edelgard said. “Had you simply surrendered from the start, you could have prevented so much senseless bloodshed and saved countless lives...including the professor.”

“How dare you...” Leonie growled, slowly rising to her feet.

“I am simply stating the truth.” Edelgard said. “It’s clear that the professor cared deeply for each of you, going so far as to fight this war to protect his students. He wouldn’t want you to throw your lives away. And so, Claude, I ask once more...will you take responsibility as leader of the Alliance? Will you accept your defeat and surrender? Or will you sacrifice your life as well as the lives of your comrades for a battle you cannot win?”

All eyes turned to Claude, who hesitated in a moment of confliction. On one hand, simply giving up now would be an insult to Teach...after all, he _did_ only join this war for the sake of his students. On the other hand, Edelgard was right. They couldn’t win. What was there to gain by sending his friends and allies to their deaths? 

...What would Teach do?

“Come, let us put an end to this war. We have both suffered enough,” Edelgard said soothingly, sheathing the Sword of Seiros and extending her hand to Claude. “Surrender now and let us greet Fodlan’s new dawn together.”

Claude paused for a moment, glancing between Edelgard’s hand and Teach’s fallen body. Was it selfish to accept her offer? To flee with his own life and let Teach die in vain? During the Battle of Garreg Mach, their professor had placed priority in protecting the students over winning the battle. Perhaps Claude was only trying to justify his choice, but even Teach was willing to surrender if it meant protecting the lives of his friends. With that in mind, Claude reluctantly extended his hand—

“No, I...I’ll never give up.”

Claude and Edelgard turned their heads to find that Lysithea was on her feet once again, her head lowered and bangs casting a shadow over her eyes. She glared at Edelgard, wielding Thyrsus in one hand and Thunderbrand in the other. A low hum filled the throne room as both Heroes Relics glowed red, harmonizing with Lysithea’s compatible Crests. She didn’t care about keeping secrets anymore. At this point, the Empire had taken everything from her and she had nothing left to lose. All that mattered right now was killing Edelgard!

“Wait, is she wielding two Relics?” Ignatz questioned, his eyes widening with curiosity.

“They’re both glowing...” Hilda exclaimed in a hushed tone.

“But that could only occur with a compatible host. This—this cannot be!” Lorenz exclaimed.

“Lysithea...” Claude whispered, staring in disbelief.

“So, you have finally shown your true nature,” Edelgard said calmly. “You're surely aware that you cannot win...but I see you are eager to join your dear professor. Very well, if that is your wish, I shall oblige. Though it’s a shame that a brilliant girl like you would so recklessly throw away her life.”

Lysithea closed her eyes, drawing power from both Relics and allowing the red glow to spread to the rest of her body. The next moment, she waved Thyrsus swiftly and precisely, casting four Miasma spells in the span of a single second. Edelgard’s eyes widened and she positioned the flat of her axe head to block the incoming spells.

The combined might of four Relic-powered spells was enough to send the emperor skidding back. Edelgard, sensing more danger, glanced up and spotted several black spikes hovering over her head—Lysithea had cast Dark Spikes and was already preparing the next wave of Miasma spells. Edelgard quickly tucked and rolled underneath the Miasma spells, while managing to avoid the Dark Spikes that came crashing to the ground.

“Hmph. It seems I’ve underestimated you,” Edelgard admitted, staring Lysithea down while the others looked on in astonishment. “But it will make no difference in the end!”

Edelgard cut through and dodged the next wave of Miasma spells. Lysithea cast Dark Spikes again, but Edelgard kicked off, avoiding the spell and soared towards Lysithea, who stood her ground.

_CLANG!_

Lysithea activated Soulblade and suddenly, Thunderbrand was no longer glowing red with the power of her Crest, nor blue with the power of her magic. 

Instead, it began to radiate with an ominous, dark purple hue. 

Using the combined might of a Hero’s Relic and magic, Lysithea was able to successfully parry Edelgard’s axe swing.

“Urk! I-Impossible!” Edelgard gasped as she was sent stumbling back.

Lysithea continued the assault against Edelgard, using a combination of rapid sword swings and magic to steadily overwhelm her opponent. Ordinarily, Thunderbrand’s power would allow the user to increase the speed of their sword swings, but Claude noted that Lysithea was drawing power from it to increase her spellcasting as well.

Normally, Claude might marvel at the ingenuity of this, but right now his focus was divided between the battle before him and the state of his professor. This war had given Claude a lot of experience with corpses...but looking at him now, it was hard to believe that Teach was truly dead. He was still and he had no heartbeat...but could he have truly perished?

...No heartbeat. Something about this rang familiar.

_“...There’s a baby mentioned in the diary. One without a heartbeat. That baby is you, isn’t it?”_

It was with sudden realization that Claude recalled Jeralt’s diary. It was in this diary that he had learned of Teach's lack of heartbeat. But what did that mean? That their professor didn't have a heart? Or perhaps Rhea had done something to it?

Claude frowned, kneeling beside Teach and grabbed the professor’s hand, pressing his fingers to Teach’s wrist.

“We can’t just stand around, we gotta get out there and help!” Raphael suddenly exclaimed.

“R-Right, I’ll help too!” Ignatz stuttered with nervous conviction.

“Me too!” Marianne added.

“Hold on a moment, we can’t afford to be so hasty,” Claude interjected, his eyes widening slightly as he released Byleth’s hand.

“Well, we can’t sit back and do nothing either,” Leonie protested.

“Lysithea’s fighting all alone over there—the professor would never forgive us if we let anything happen to her,” Hilda pointed out.

“Too true...” Claude sighed. “But the way things are, we would just get in the way. We should hang back and strike when the time is right.”

Claude could see immediate disapproval in the faces of his allies at this suggestion.

“Come on, are you really saying we’re too weak to do _anything_?” Leonie asked indignantly.

“It’s not that,” Claude assured her. “But with the way Edelgard fights...I’m not sure we’d be much help. It’s better to wait for now and step in if something goes wrong.”

“Uh, ‘if something goes wrong’?” Hilda frowned. “What do you mean by that, Claude?”

“In the meantime, Marianne, I need you and Lorenz to continue restoring Teach,” Claude said, passing over Hilda's comment.

“I beg your pardon?” Lorenz frowned.

“Claude...he—there’s nothing we can do,” Marianne said gently.

“We can’t know that for sure,” Claude insisted. “I know it sounds pointless, but I'm going to need you to trust me on this.”

Marianne gave Claude a sympathetic expression while Lorenz gazed at him skeptically.

“If you truly believe this is the best course of action, then I will comply,” Lorenz sighed reluctantly as he assisted Marianne. “But I implore you to be reasonable with your expectations."

Claude nodded as he continued to glance between Teach and the ongoing battle. He was certain that he had felt a pulse just a moment ago. A weak pulse, but a pulse nonetheless. Even if their chances were slim, he couldn’t give up on Teach just yet. 

He readied his bow, prepared to protect Teach’s body or step in if things got bad for Lysithea.

 _Lysithea...how long can you maintain this power?_ Claude wondered.

_BANG! BANG! CLANG! BANG! CLANG! BANG! CLANG-CLANG!_

Lysithea continued pushing forward, unleashing a flurry of spells and sword swings onto Edelgard, who was panting heavily. ...To think that Lysithea of all people would be capable of driving her back. It was...impressive to say the least. If only she and the professor had joined Edelgard’s cause—but no, it was too late to lament over that now. If she was to defeat Lysithea, she would need to take advantage of her vulnerable defenses.

Edelgard strafed to the side, dodging more Miasma spells, before leaping several feet into the air and plunging her axe downward, ready to start another earthquake. However, Lysithea was prepared this time and cast Abraxas, summoning a pillar of light from the sky, which struck Edelgard directly mid-jump.

“Aaarrrgh!” Edelgard cried as she was sent crashing facedown onto the floor.

Lysithea wasn’t finished yet. As soon as Edelgard landed, she next cast Hades, creating a tornado of darkness that launched the emperor back into the air. As Edelgard descended towards the ground once again, Lysithea cast a Miasma spell that hit Edelgard mid-fall and sent her flying backwards, landing directly onto the throne itself.

Cheers erupted throughout the throne room as the Golden Deer celebrated Lysithea’s triumph, however these cheers soon turned to gasps and, as Edelgard looked up, she could see why. Lysithea was doubled over in pain, coughing up blood. No doubt her body was struggling to handle the strain that came from using two Relics at once. This was Edelgard’s chance!

“No... _cough_...not yet...” Lysithea grunted as she coughed up more blood.

“Lysithea!” Leonie shouted.

“Look out!” Claude exclaimed.

Lysithea looked up just in time to see Edelgard charging towards her, poised to attack with Aymr. Leonie and Ignatz pelted Edelgard with arrows, slowing her down, and Claude let loose a single well-aimed arrow from Failnaught that forced the emperor to draw back momentarily, giving Lysithea just enough time to gather herself.

Edelgard quickly recovered, however, and Lysithea was forced to sidestep a vertical axe swing and counter Edelgard’s subsequent sword thrust with Thunderbrand. Shortly after, Edelgard's vertical axe swing transitioned into a horizontal slash that Lysithea ducked under before spitting a mouthful of blood into Edelgard’s face. Hardly an appropriate maneuver for a woman of nobility, it was a fighting tactic that she had picked up from sparring with the professor.

“Ack!” Edelgard recoiled with disgust, blinded by Lysithea’s attack.

Lysithea continued the momentum, assaulting Edelgard with a series of quick and powerful sword strikes. Her muscles were screaming in agony as the power of the Crests and Heroes Relics began to tear her body apart, but she couldn’t stop just yet. She had to finish this—for the professor!

_CLANG! CLANG!_

Edelgard blinked past the blood, using Aymr to defend herself against Lysithea’s attacks. With each strike, Lysithea pushed herself closer and closer to victory, while Edelgard's movements became more and more desperate. She was losing...

_CLANG!_

How...how was this possible?

_CLANG!_

She was Edelgard von Hresvelg!

_CLANG!_

Emperor of the Adrestian Empire!

_CLANG!_

The power of a _god_ flowed through her veins!

_CLANG!_

How could she be defeated—

_CLANG!_

—by a small, crippled girl?!

_CLANG!_

Lysithea raised Thunderbrand over her head and swung down forcefully. Edelgard blocked the attack once more, but the sheer power was enough to bring the emperor to her knees.

_CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!_

It had been so long since Edelgard last knew fear—when she was a little girl and had received her second Crest. But now, at the height of her glory as emperor, Edelgard was trembling in terror as she gazed up at Lysithea. Her face was contorted with rage, eyes seething with hatred as she brought down her sword, again and again and again. There was no form or technique to her attacks anymore, just raw anger as Lysithea ruthlessly pounded Edelgard into submission.

She was supposed to be prepared for this; this reaction, this brutality, this righteous fury. And yet...

_CLANG! CLANG! CLANG! CLANG! CLANG-CLANG-CLANG-CLANG-CLANG-CLANG!_

“Agh!” Edelgard gasped as she was slammed onto her back, her head hitting the stone-cold floor.

The two of them were breathing heavily now. Edelgard lunged at Lysithea with the Sword of Seiros in a last-ditch effort to take her down, but it was too late. Lysithea parried the thrust with Thunderbrand and blasted her with Miasma using Thyrsus. Edelgard was flung back, flipping over on her stomach, and dropped both of her weapons in the process.

Edelgard gazed up helplessly as Lysithea sprinted towards her, Thunderbrand in hand, determined to put an end to this once and for all. There was nothing Edelgard could do anymore, she had exhausted all her options. 

...It was over. 

Just as Edelgard closed her eyes and braced herself for her inevitable fate, however, Lysithea’s sprint turned into a staggered run, then a clumsy jog. The next moment, she had fallen face first to the ground.

“Nnnngg...urrrgghhh...” Lysithea grunted as she steadily pushed herself back to her feet. “AAARRRGHHH!!!”

“Lysithea!” Claude shouted as Lysithea collapsed and began writhing in pain, convulsing and shaking horribly, the power of the Crests and Heroes Relics taking their toll on her body. “Everyone move in!

Edelgard stared for a moment, mouth agape in astonishment, before quickly scrambling to her feet, retrieving her weapons, and charging towards her fallen adversary.

“Stay back!” Raphael shouted, placing himself in front of Lysithea.

Edelgard gave a low growl and, with murderous intent in her eyes, she swung Aymr at Raphael, who stepped back in time to avoid it and grabbed the hilt of the axe. In Edelgard’s weakened state, Raphael was able to overpower her and slowly pushed her back while the others came to Lysithea’s aid.

“I will not stand for this hindrance!” Edelgard shouted, smashing her forehead into Raphael’s, her horned ornament protecting her from damage.

“Oogh...” Raphael grunted.

With Raphael dazed from the attack, Edelgard swung the axe around, flinging him off, and continued her pursuit. The archers, Ignatz, Leonie, and Claude, were already prepared, however, and let loose a volley of arrows to ward off Edelgard, while Lorenz scooped Lysithea into his arms and carried her away.

“Out of my way!” Edelgard shouted, blocking several of the arrows with the flat of her axe head and then countering with a series of Fire spells.

These fireballs, however, were dispelled by Marianne who cut through them with Blutgang. Using her free hand, she then cast Silence, once again denying Edelgard access to her spells. Retaliating, Edelgard rushed in and swung her axe at Marianne.

“Hiiiyah!” Hilda shouted, jumping in just in time to block Edelgard’s attack with Freikugel.

Without a moment to waste, Edelgard pushed against Freikugel with Aymr and quickly elbowed Hilda in the face, knocking her to the ground. Marianne attempted to counter this with a sword thrust, but Edelgard swatted her attack to the side and kicked her down, right next to Hilda.

“Urk!” Edelgard gasped as one of Ignatz’s arrows suddenly grazed her cheek.

Edelgard couldn’t afford to let Claude or the others slow her down. She could deal with them later, but Lysithea was too dangerous to let live. She had to die _right now!_ Edelgard dodged the volley of arrows and kicked off once again, flying towards Lorenz as he fled with Lysithea in his arms. Edelgard was too fast for them; in a matter of seconds she had almost caught up and was prepared to cleave the two of them in half when—

“Oof!”

Something snagged on Edelgard’s ankle, causing her to slam onto the floor. Edelgard turned her head and glared at the source, when suddenly her eyes widened. Wrapped around her ankle was a familiar looking whip...and at the other end, holding the mythical Sword of the Creator was—

“Professor!”

“Teach, you made it!”

“Y-You’re alive!”

“Hahaha, should have known you would pull through!”

Byleth. His face was expressionless as always, and yet there was something intense about the way he was staring at Edelgard right now.

“Get away from my students.” Byleth said in a calm, yet deadly tone.

“...No...no...” Edelgard whispered in horror. “Not you...”

Byleth tugged at the sword, pulling Edelgard back and flinging her against the opposite wall.

“Nnng!”

Edelgard slowly got to her feet as Byleth retracted the whip of his sword and made his way towards her, calmly and serenely, without a hint of emotion on his face. And yet the way he was looking at her...the professor couldn’t be any more terrifying.

“You...y-you’re dead. I...I stabbed you in the _heart_!” Edelgard shouted, sounding very much like a small child who had been cheated out of winning a game.

Byleth didn’t respond. He simply continued to approach her, his cold, pitiless eyes staring straight into Edelgard’s soul. He raised the Sword of the Creator and swung down. Edelgard blocked with Aymr, but the red glow of her Hero’s Relic was starting to flicker...she was at her limit.

Another swing from the Sword of the Creator. This time Edelgard blocked with the Sword of Seiros, but Byleth delivered a left hook with his free hand, sending the emperor staggering back and bruising her cheek. None of the Golden Deer intervened. There was no need to at this point. It was clear that Edelgard couldn’t keep going, and the professor was no longer expending any effort.

Making one last stand, Edelgard rushed at Byleth and swung Aymr down on him. Byleth easily blocked it with the Sword of the Creator and cast Nosferatsu with his other hand, sending Edelgard skidding back. The next moment, he unleashed Sublime Heaven, attacking Edelgard with a horizontal whip slash. Edelgard blocked it with her axe, but the force of the attack was too powerful and she was flung back, landing right in front of the staircase leading to the throne.

Breathing heavily, Edelgard shakily rose to her feet one last time...before collapsing and falling once again, no longer able to stand. She was done.

“It looks as though...my path...will end here...” Edelgard breathed, using the Sword of Seiros to prop herself up as she kneeled before Byleth.

Edelgard reached for Aymr and the Relic glowed, but only briefly. She didn’t even have the power to channel her Crest anymore.

“My teacher...claim your victory...” Edelgard whispered. “Strike me down. You must!”

Byleth said nothing. Lysithea and the others simply watched on as Edelgard continued to plead, none of them could see the professor’s expression.

Even now...across this land, people are killing each other. If you do not act now, this conflict...will go on forever.”

It was a struggle just for Edelgard to speak at this point, and she sounded as though she might break down into tears at any moment. Lysithea still hated her. Deeply. But she couldn’t help but pity her as well. A woman who had suffered the same trauma as herself, who held the same resentment to Crests and the nobility, who had once been so close to the professor...

“Your path...lies across my grave. It is time for you to find the courage to walk it.”

...Only to be killed by him now.

“If I must fall...let it be by your hand.”

With Byleth’s back to the others, they still couldn’t see his face, but he seemed resolved as he gripped the Sword of the Creator and slowly approached Edelgard. No pause, no shaking, nor any other signs of hesitance. He simply stood in front of Edelgard and raised the Sword of the Creator above his head. Lysithea couldn’t watch...

“I wanted... to walk with yo—”

Lysithea closed her eyes just as Byleth brought down his sword. A horrible squelching sound was heard as the emperor breathed her last. 

He had done it. 

He had killed Edelgard. 

His student. His friend.

One of the first people he had formed a bond with, who had helped him find his humanity. 

She was gone now and...

...the war was over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm aware that Dedue is missing from this, but honestly I had my hands full with 11 characters. I considered establishing his death before the fight, but I decided to leave it open ended. Maybe he died before reaching Edelgard? Maybe he came in after Byleth defeated her and disposed of her body? Or maybe Dimitri's Ghost visited him if that's what you want.


	21. Plans for the Future (Verdant Wind: 7/12)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the Empire finally defeated and the war coming to a close, Claude and Lysithea looks towards the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is actually a remake of a very old chapter I made long ago, but decided against posting when I considered how the story might change over time. As such, the writing style might be a bit...dated.

**Verdant Wind**

**The City Without Light**

**Day 12 of the Blue Sea Moon**

It was a late night at the Garreg Mach Monastery library. By Lysithea's estimation, it had been several hours since the cathedral bells last rang, which meant it was well past midnight. She knew this because five years ago, back in her days at the academy, Seteth had once scolded her for staying up so late and explained the monastery's clock tower schedule.

_"What are you doing out of bed this late?"_

_"Hm? Oh, hello Seteth. I'm only studying. It's easier to get work done without the distraction of others."_

_"While I empathize with your desire for peace and quiet, it is well past curfew. The bells are silenced at midnight so you may better rest. When they are put to sleep, you should be as well."_

In the end, her professor had been reprimanded for not keeping a closer eye on his students. Lysithea felt bad at the time, but Byleth had been sympathetic, apparently not being much of a sleeper himself. He had even offered to help her by checking out books at night when she couldn't access the library.

In fact, the professor was with Lysithea right now, sitting in a nearby chair, sipping tea and pouring through several books dedicated to the basics of blood magic. The two of them had come to an agreement that any means of removing Lysithea's Crests would likely involve studying this rare form of sorcery.

However, contrary to what many would believe, blood magic was a variation of white magic, just as dark magic was a variation of black magic. And one of the fundamental laws of magic was that a mage could not use white magic on themselves, which meant the professor would have to be the one to perform any blood rituals on Lysithea.

And so, while the professor researched magic, Lysithea continued to focus her efforts on studying Crests. Despite the prominence Crests held in Fodlan, however, Crestology itself was still in its infancy, with Hanneman once being considered the Father of Crestology...back when he was alive. When it came to factual knowledge, Lysithea and the Professor had managed to cover the subject in a remarkably short time. However, there were still plenty of unproven theories and untested claims to consider. It was difficult to separate fact from fiction and, given the hour, Lysithea wasn’t sure if she had the energy to keep going.

...But she had to. The professor was still awake. He was still working hard and showed no signs of stopping. Which meant Lysithea couldn’t stop either, not when all this hard work was being done for _her_ sake. As long as the professor was going to stay up, she would stay up by his side. There was no way she was going to let him outdo her!

Truthfully, however, this was the _only_ reason Lysithea continued to work so hard. When it came to actually removing her Crests, she had come to realize early on how unrealistic the idea was and lost hope in ever succeeding. After all, it had taken the imperial mages roughly eight years to implant her Crests, meanwhile the two of them had less than _four_ years to remove them. 

Resisting the urge to yawn, Lysithea glanced towards her professor, who was jotting down notes as fast as he could in his usual chicken scratch handwriting. Even if _she_ had lost hope, the professor hadn't. He still naively believed that they would find a way to cure her. Or...maybe he understood the grim truth but couldn't bring himself to accept it? Whatever the case, he refused to abandon her, which meant she wasn't going to abandon him either.

Lysithea rubbed her eyes as she turned back to her studies. Her vision was blurred and her brain fogged. She had awoken at six in the morning and had spent the entire day working, studying and training with the professor—who had started even earlier. They were both exhausted, physically and mentally, and likely smelled bad too since neither of them had a chance to bathe. Ordinarily Lysithea would simply suggest going to bed, however...

Since learning of the threat that slithered in the dark, she and the professor had discussed the situation and came to the conclusion that finding research regarding the imperial mage's blood experiments was their best chance at discovering a cure for Lysithea's Crests. In preparation for their raid on Shambhala, they had doubled their already intense research efforts as well as their training, both eager to exact their vengeance against Those Who Slither in the Dark. 

Knowing the professor, any attempts to end their study session would result in the professor bidding her to bed and simply continuing the research on his own. He was stubborn that way, but then again Lysithea was quite stubborn herself. She would just have to wait until he—

_THUD._

Lysithea blinked, startled at the sudden noise, and turned to her professor. As if right on cue, his head was resting against the open book, his writing hand still, and his tea—thankfully—not knocked over.

“Professor?” Lysithea asked tentatively, getting out of her chair and moving around the table to examine him.

Byleth's eyes were closed and his breathing was heavy. Sleeping. Normally, Lysithea might have taken a small, smug sense of pride in outlasting her professor, but in truth she was just grateful that he was finally asleep. He had certainly earned his rest after working all day, and she had managed to work alongside him the entire time...and yet in spite of that, Lysithea couldn't help but feel that Byeth had somehow managed to work more than her.

There was some truth to this. Unbeknownst to Lysithea, Byleth had been making use of the Divine Pulse to artificially extend his day and sneak in more research time. Because of this, not only had he worked longer hours without sleeping, but his body was worn out by his consistent use of this power.

Lysithea let out a small sigh. As relieved as she was, she had no idea how to handle the current situation. Thinking back, when Lysithea had passed out from overworking herself during training, the professor had carried her all the way to the infirmary and tended to her there. The infirmary was just down the hall from the library, but Lysithea wasn't nearly as strong as the professor...and he was heavy too, always wearing that armor.

Still, she couldn't just leave him be either. It was too cold. At the very least she could fetch him a spare pillow and blanket from the infirmary. Lysithea turned to leave, but paused as she did so, glancing back to the professor. She had to admit that a small, selfish part of her was enjoying all the attention she was receiving but...now the situation was becoming stressful and the professor was running himself ragged. It was getting hard to watch. Seeing him this way, Lysithea couldn't help but wonder...was this how her friends and family felt when _she_ overworked herself?

What she really didn't understand was the professor's naive behavior. Lorenz was much the same in that regard, but the difference was that Lorenz didn't know the full truth. The professor, on the other hand, did. And he wasn't the type to look at things optimistically or make unpractical decisions. He was always straight forward, sensible and realistic... So why was he working so hard and wasting so much time trying to find a cure that probably didn't exist?

_Because he cares about you._

That much was obvious. But no matter how much he cared or how much Lysithea wanted a better future, that didn't change their situation. Did he just care so much that he was in denial? Was he pushing himself so hard because his conscience wouldn't let him let him simply give up without trying? Or was he doing this so she didn't have to suffer alone? Lysithea sighed, ruffling the professor's hair as she did so, before leaning in and, after a moment of hesitation, gently planted a kiss on his cheek.

Lysithea quickly exited the library, face blushing red, and made her way down the hall, conjuring a ball of fire in her hand to light the way. Even now, the monastery still felt spooky at night. Byleth had been considerate enough to have discreetly added candles outside the student's rooms to help comfort her, but apparently the knights had neglected to add them here.

It was embarrassing to admit that even now, as a grown woman, she was still scared of the dark. For whatever reason, Lysithea had always had an easier time opening up around the professor. Maybe it was because he never treated her like a child or maybe because he was the first person Lysithea truly considered to be her friend, but even if he wasn't the judgemental type, it was annoying that he so often saw Lysithea at her most vulnerable. But then...what was it that Hilda once said?

_"When you're older, you might understand the importance of looking a little vulnerable."_

_"Ugh. You're treating me like a child...but I guess it's mostly harmless."_

As much as Lysithea hated to admit it, Hilda had been right. It was because of her vulnerability that the professor was giving her so much attention, spending so much time with her...even doting on her from time to time. It was because Lysithea had lowered her guard that she and Byleth were more...intimate now.

_Intimate..._

Lysithea blushed again as she made her way into the infirmary and grabbed a spare pillow and blanket for the professor. She considered grabbing a second set for herself, but decided against it. While it was inconsiderate to just leave the professor by himself, it would look...odd...if someone were to stumble on the two of them sleeping together in the library. The last thing she needed right now was more rumors spreading. The infirmary was a fairly private spot, she would just sleep here instead.

“Planning a sleepover?” came a playful voice from behind her. 

Lysithea nearly screamed. It was only because she remembered that Byleth was sleeping close by that she managed to bite her tongue.

“Claude!” Lysithea hissed, turning to face him. “What are you doing sneaking up on me so late at night?!”

“Easy there, I didn’t mean to sneak up on you, I promise.” Claude said with his usual easy smile. “I just wanted to check in on you.” 

"You wanted to 'check in on me' in the dead of night?" Lysithea asked, folding her arms and scowling with accustation.

"OK, poor choice of words. I meant...I wanted to talk to you,” Claude corrected himself, sitting on a nearby bed and patting the spot next to him.

“I don’t suppose this would have waited until morning?” Lysithea remarked scathingly as she begrudgingly joined him.

“It’s probably best if we had this talk alone,” Claude muttered. “It’s about you and Teach, actually.” 

Lysithea's face hardened. Here it was. He had come to discuss the senseless gossip floating around the monastery surrounding her and the professor, hadn't he? ...Or maybe not. It was hard to believe that Claude had stayed up so late just to make a joke at her expense. If teasing her had been his intention, he would have made it more public too. So, she would hear him out. For now.

“What about us?"

Claude didn’t respond immediately. Instead he placed his fingertips together and leaned his head forward, as if pondering how to best phrase his response. After some time had passed, he sighed.

"Look, I'm not sure how to go about this tactfully, so I'll just come out and ask. Are the two of you—are you and Teach...” Claude paused as Lysithea’s scowl deepened. “...Do you and Teach have feelings for each other?”

Lysithea's scowl now turned to a look of disgust. So Claude _had_ come here to ridicule her over...that. Just when she thought he wouldn't sink so low...to think he would stalk her in the dead of night simply to frighten her and then add insult to injury by treating her like...like some childish schoolgirl who had a crush on her teacher. 

“Ugh, I should have known better,” Lysithea snapped “Look, I really don't have time for this right now. It's very late and—"

“Lysithea, wait, it's not—”

“Honestly, I’m starting to think the reason you belittle me so much is because _you’re_ the child, Claude!” Lysithea spat indignantly.

“Please just hear me out,” Claude pleaded. 

Lysithea said nothing but continued to glower fiercely at him. 

“You’ll listen?” Claude asked tentatively.

“Speak quickly,” Lysithea sniffed shortly. “I’m still deciding what spell I might need practice on.” 

Claude shuddered, whenever Lysithea got like this, she reminded him of his mother...

“Lately I’ve noticed, Teach seems to spend a lot of time with you,” Claude noted cautiously.

Lysithea continued to stare at him intently, but knew there was no use in denying it.

“What of it?” Lysithea asked. “I’ve noticed that you spend a lot of time with him too.”

Although she was simply deflecting, there was some truth to this. Ever since their academy days, Claude had spent a lot of time probing the professor on his past. And now that they were at war, he was constantly grooming Byleth to act as leader of the Church.

“That’s true," Claude admitted. "But this is different. The two of you have practically become inseparable. You’re always training together, eating together, spending a lot of time alone, pulling all-nighters in the library—like right now. And whenever anyone else comes to talk, you both get really quiet and secretive.” 

Lysithea’s face flushed a soft shade of red; she hadn’t considered how their behavior might look to everyone else. When Claude phrased it like that, it made sense that people would jump to conclusions. Still...

“I’m not sure what you’re getting at,” Lysithea huffed dismissively. 

Claude frowned, Lysithea was too smart to get away with playing dumb.

“It seems strange, doesn’t it?" The two of you are hardly the type to socialize with anyone and yet now you’re always together but have distanced yourselves from everyone else."

"Like you said, we're not very social." Lysithea shrugged.

"That's not what—I'm just saying it's a bit unusual and I'm not the only one who's noticed," Claude pointed out, his face unusually stern considering the nature of their discussion.

“Hmph. Well thank you for the warning, but I don’t care what baseless rumors the others are spreading. And frankly it’s none of your concern.”

“Actually, I think it is.”

Just as Lysithea was able to snap at him again, she realized that his tone and expression were both very sincere. Her own expression softened a bit.

“Why’s that?” Lysithea asked, trying to keep some level of contempt in her voice. She very much didn’t enjoy talking about this.

“Because I wasn’t just talking about our friends. Even the troops have noticed how you two behave together during training and on the battlefield." 

Lysithea rolled her eyes. If the troops really had nothing better to do than gossip about the potential love life of their commanders, then clearly they weren't being pushed hard enough.

"...As well as our enemies,” Claude added.

“What do you mean?” Lysithea slowly asked with a confused frown.

“I’m talking about Edelgard.” 

Lysithea’s eyes widened and she felt a pit in her stomach...so she hadn’t been imagining things then.

“I-I...” Lysithea hesitated, not sure how to respond.

Their last battle had taken place in Enbarr, the Imperial Capital, where they had finally toppled the Empire shortly before learning about the mysterious threat that slithered in the dark. There was a moment during their fight with Edelgard where Lysithea felt she had been specifically targeted by the emperor. At first Lysithea thought it was because Edelgard had recognized her as a threat, but the more she thought about it...

“You noticed it too, didn’t you?” Claude pressed. “She was using you to get to Teach.”

"Hmph, if I recall, _you_ were the one who was ready to lay down his arms when we thought the professor was defeated," Lysithea reminded him defensively.

This was true. During the fight against Edelgard, when Claude was on the brink of surrendering, Lysithea and Leonie had refused to back down. And it was Lysithea who had brought Edelgard to her knees.

On the other hand, Claude wasn't entirely wrong either. Looking back on it now, it was obvious that Edelgard had been using her as bait to draw the professor into an unfavorable situation, which led to his near death. In that sense...Lysithea had been just as much a liability as an asset during that battle.

“Of course and, to be clear, I'm not saying you didn't pull your weight in that fight," Claude assured her. "But you can at least agree that Teach cares about you, right?”

“I suppose...” Lysithea muttered, immediately feeling a wave of guilt over these words. 

Such a halfhearted answer was hardly fitting to the professor who had been working so tirelessly for her sake, who had collapsed from exhaustion in the library not moments ago. Lysithea shook her head. 

“No—I mean yes. He does care,” She admitted, her cheeks turning pink.

“You mean the world to him, Lysithea,” Claude remarked with a smile.

“OK, OK, message received! Can we stop talking about this now?” Lysithea grumbled.

“I’m only saying this because our raid on Shambhala is coming up,” Claude explained. “Once Shamir reports back from recon, we’ll be moving in. I know this mission is personal to you. No doubt, you want to get revenge for everything they’ve done."

"Not just to me," Lysithea corrected him. "To the professor, to Edelgard, and to everyone else who was forced to suffer at their hands!"

"Right." Claude nodded. "It's personal for both of you. And I know you and Teach always have each other’s backs, but he can be a bit...reckless when it comes to your safety. Just be cautious, alright?”

Claude's smile was a bit _too_ playful for Lysithea's liking.

“I had every intention...” Lysithea muttered.

Combing through the hideout for information was crucial. Lysithea and the professor had been setting up their plan of attack for some time. After years of suffering and desiring revenge, she had no intention of messing it up now. Still, considering their personal investment in this mission, she supposed Claude couldn't be blamed for worrying about her.

“Also...I’m sorry I snapped at you,” Lysithea added gently. “I just don’t feel comfortable discussing these types of things...”

“I understand.” 

Claude nodded sympathetically.

“However, you never did tell me for certain if there was anything going on between you and Teach,” He added with a smile.

“Ugh. Haven’t I told you enough?” Lysithea pouted.

Claude had already said his piece and warned her about being cautious. For what reason could he possibly be so invested in their personal lives?

“Nope. Hilda’s curious too. And I doubt she’ll leave you alone until she gets an answer,” Claude chuckled.

“If you’re _that_ insistent of snooping, then fine. As long as you leave us alone,” Lysithea sighed. “But there isn’t much to say. It’s...complicated.”

“If it’s complicated, I would imagine there’s quite a lot to say,” Claude argued with a wink. 

Lysithea sighed. He was right of course. There _was_ a lot to say when it came to her feelings for the professor and yet so much she couldn't share. She had always been drawn to the professor, from the very first day they met. Lysithea had joined the academy, aspiring to be someone who her parents and the people of her territory could depend on. And she had decided well before joining that she wouldn't develop personal attachments...

...But then she met Byleth, a young prodigy much like herself, who had taken the mantle of professor and was teaching students his own age. Lysithea saw a lot of appeal in this, for Byleth was exactly the sort of person she aspired to be. A young, dependable leader who had full control over their emotions...someone that others around them could truly rely on.

As Lysithea got to know him better, she began to see the professor more and more as a kindred spirit. He wasn't only young, but he too had been isolated for much of his life and had just as much trouble socializing as she did...he had even been targeted by Hanneman for being a Crest anomaly much like herself. Not to mention, he was also one of the few boys in the academy who didn't view her as a child...

Eventually, Lysithea did develop feelings for him. And she made excuses for those feelings. He was the professor, after all, so it wasn't as though she could avoid him...not to mention it would be detrimental to her studies. And, despite everything she had promised herself, there was even a time when Lysithea had planned to come forward with her feelings after the school year. But then...then the war began and the professor had gone missing.

Because of this war—this pointless, ridiculous war—Lysithea had already lost so much of her precious time. When she had finally reunited with the professor she only had five years left. Now four...four years _at most_. For all Lysithea knew, she could die next year. She didn't have time to pursue a relationship, she didn't have time to spend with the professor or look for a cure or any of that. And yet...she was doing it anyway.

The truth was, Lysithea loved him dearly...and deep in her heart, she knew that the professor—that Byleth—felt the same way. If things had been different, they could have been together. But no, not only was Lysithea wasting her time by looking for a non-existent cure, she was also wasting Byleth's time and giving him false hope by indulging in his idealistic fantasies. In the end, she was only making it more painful for him when they were forced to part ways...when...she died.

“Lysithea, are you OK?” Claude asked with a look of concern.

“I’m fine,” Lysithea muttered, wiping her eyes. She realized she had been quiet for some time now and sighed before continuing. “If you’re really concerned about the situation between me and the professor...well...I will say that I consider the two of us to be very close. That's all.” 

There was a pause.

“You love him, don’t you?” Claude coaxed gently.

“...I do,” Lysithea admitted.

At this point it was plainly obvious and there was little point in hiding it. In fact, now that she had actually said it out loud, Lysithea realized she wasn't even embarrassed...just sad. It was painful to think about something wonderful that couldn't be.

“Heh, then I suppose I can forgive you for keeping Teach to yourself all this time.” Claude smirked. “Still, the rest of us need him too. He is our commander, after all.”

“You’ve been working him hard enough as it is!” Lysithea scolded crossly, folding her arms. 

The irony of this statement wasn't lost on her. While Claude had certainly become dependent on him during the war, Lysithea was leading him on a wild goose chase...even worse, now the professor was in the same position she was in...always in a rush to find a cure before it was too late, with no time to spare. Nevertheless, that didn't make her feel any less defensive about the workload Claude was piling on him.

“Of course, I am,” Claude said candidly. “You know how important Teach is to the war effort. He's our best tactician, he inspires the people around him, and he keeps this ragtag team of misfits in line. I admit, I rely on him.” 

Claude laughed and Lysithea couldn't help but smile, but after a moment of pause, her face fell.

“You know, Claude, the professor once told me that...he considers you to be his best friend. Did you know that?” Lysithea asked softly.

“To be honest, I didn’t. It’s hard to tell with Teach sometimes,” Claude mused with a surprised but unusually genuine smile on his face.

“Still...he worries sometimes," Lysithea added. "He thinks you may be using him.”

“Makes sense. It's not exactly a secret, is it?" Claude confessed. "He is the commander of our army and I did use him to convince your father and the other lords to support our cause. It's not something I'm proud of, but I’ve been upfront about it, haven’t I?” 

Lysithea nodded, remembering that day well...Byleth had made quite an impression on her father.

"That's true," Lysithea agreed. "But it feels like you've been setting him up as a figurehead leader for our 'rebellion'. When the truth is, he wasn’t that interested in the war to begin with. He only joined to protect us...and to save Rhea."

She was staring at Claude intently, but he simply shrugged this off.

“Like I said, Teach is a beacon of hope to the people. It's only natural that I would make him the symbol of our cause." Claude reasoned.

“And when the war is over, you weren’t perhaps...thinking of leaving him to settle Fodlan’s affairs and disappearing, were you?” Lysithea asked shrewdly. 

Claude paused; he hadn’t expected that. 

“Is this coming from Teach? Or from you?” Claude asked cautiously.

Lysithea didn’t answer and Claude sighed before continuing.

“...I’ll admit, I may have overstepped my bounds with Teach. And I haven’t always been the ‘best friend’ I should be. But I do promise this...I would never do anything to hurt him.” 

One one hand, Lysithea could tell that Claude wasn't being entirely truthful with her. On the other hand...he did sound very sincere about not wishing harm on the professor.

“I guess I have no choice but to trust you,” Lysithea sighed again, sounding quite sincere herself. “And for all his doubts...he trusts you too. I hope you know that.”

“I do. And I was being serious when I said I wouldn’t do anything to hurt him. The future we’re creating will be one where Teach can see his own dreams to fruition. Still, he’s pretty lucky to have you looking out for him.” 

Claude winked and Lysithea rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, yeah. Now that I’ve opened up, is there anything else you need from me?”

“No, you’re fine," Claude assured her. "But don't you need help carrying Teach in here?"

"Oh! Uhh...yes, I _would_ appreciate that, actually. Thank you."

Lysithea conjured another ball of fire for light as they retreaded her footsteps down the hall. Upon making their way back to the library, however, it suddenly dawned on her that Claude must have been waiting for a chance to talk to her alone for some time. Hours maybe. ...Was her private life really that important?

"Hey, Claude...would you mind if _I_ asked a question?"

"Hmmm? What is it, Lysithea?"

"Why _are_ you so interested in my relationship with the professor?" Lysithea asked with a small frown.

"Eh, I just thought I'd keep tabs on everyone," Claude said vaguely with a slightly dismissive hand wave. "With the war coming to an end, I just wanted to keep up with you and Teach. After all, I'm sure you'll both be important figures in Fodlan's future someday."

In truth, Claude had been a bit worried about leaving Fodlan in the hands of poor ol' Teach. Their professor was someone who he believed could act as Fodlan's moral compass and inspire a new set of values in its people...but he couldn't do it alone. He needed someone who understood Fodlan and its history, someone who could guide Teach through the political hurdles and teach him the art of diplomacy. Alas, Claude wasn't the one to do that. But with Lysithea at Teach's side as queen...Claude had hope for the future of Fodlan’s New Dawn.

"I see. Well, don't expect us to announce an engagement any time soon," Lysithea sighed wearily. "But um...would you mind not telling anyone what you saw?"

"What I saw?" Claude repeated as he approached the professor.

"You know...me kissing the professor," Lysithea mumbled shyly.

"Ah, I see...well thanks for sharing that little tidbit of gossip," Claude chuckled with an amused smirk, much to Lysithea's horror.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally where I planned the story to end. Because I honestly saw no reason to continue further and felt there was nothing I could add to the established canon. Buuuut since my beta reader chewed me out for this, I do have one more chapter planned.


	22. Ruler of Dawn (Verdant Wind: 9/4)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the defeat of the King of Liberation, Nemesis, Claude and the other Golden Deer prepare for the unification and restoration of Fodlan. Having finished his mission and concluded the war, Byleth intends to fulfill his promise and cure Lysithea of her Crests. Claude, however, has other plans...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got a new cover art commissioned for this fic! Credit goes to Dannex009 and I will be using this cover art for the other chapters as well, once they're updated.
> 
> After this chapter, I have two more planned. But they have both already been written and are in the final editing phases, so it shouldn't take too much longer until they're ready to submit. We're reaching the end now, I hope the result is satisfying.

****

**Verdant Wind**

**Fodlan’s New Dawn**

**Day 4 of the Horsebow Moon**

“Hey Ignatz, how’s this look?” Raphael asked, flexing his muscles.

“Ooh, are we doing poses? I have a few cute ones I could try out,” Hilda suggested brightly.

“Hang on, if this is a historical painting, shouldn’t we look more...natural?” Leonie questioned with a small frown.

“No, no, it’s fine. Keep posing, Raphael,” Ignatz laughed. “It adds more character to the picture, you know?”

It had been several days since the Fell King Nemesis had been defeated and peace had finally returned to Fodlan. There were still a few loose ends to tie up, including a handful of high ranking imperial loyalists trying to resist annexation as well as instability within the Faerghus region. But with the main threat quelled and Claude set to become king of this new unified Fodlan, they were finally on the road to recovery.

Currently, the Golden Deer and their allies were assembled in the Cathedral at the request of Ignatz, who had spent the last thirty minutes sketching their likeness in preparation for his newest painting, ‘Fodlan’s New Dawn’ featuring the Alliance and Church of Seiros in their moment of triumph. Standing center of the group was Claude, the leader of the Alliance who would now lead all of Fodlan to prosperity. Next to him was his right-hand, the professor, whose contributions made their victory possible.

“Poses, hm? Ah! How about this?” Lorenz proposed, placing his hand to his chin. “It looks quite distinguished, wouldn't you say? As if I am deep in thought, contemplating the future of Fodlan.” 

“Heh, it’s very fitting Lorenz,” Ignatz chuckled.

“Oh, perhaps a more intimidating stance!” Flayn added, making an angry face and positioning her hands like outstretched claws

“You...want me to paint you like a pouncing tiger?” Ignatz asked with a confused frown.

“No, I wish to be depicted as ‘fierce’. Do you not recall?”

“I suppose, but I’m not sure if ‘fierce’ is appropriate in this situation...” Ignatz muttered.

“I want all who look back on this painting to know of my ferocity in battle!” Flayn insisted.

“Uh, Ignatz, how long is this going to take?” Lysithea asked tensely. She didn't like standing around doing nothing for prolonged periods of time.

“The painting? Oh, two to three weeks, I imagine,” Ignatz estimated.

“Two to three weeks?!” Lysithea exclaimed. “That’s far too long!”

“Quite right,” Seteth added in agreement as he forced Flayn’s arms back down, much to her annoyance. “We are creating the foundation for a new age, we cannot afford to stand idly about while Fodlan is at the brink of collapse.”

“Oh no, don't worry, I won’t keep you here for nearly that long,” Ignatz assured them. “I’m only preparing sketches that I'll use for reference when I make the final piece. The official painting will depict us during the coronation ceremony.”

“Besides, this is exactly the sort of thing Fodlan needs to boost the people's morale,” Claude pointed out.

“I...suppose you do have a point,” Seteth admitted with some reluctance. “Very well, for the future of Fodlan, let us make this a truly inspiring masterpiece.”

“That’s the spirit!” Ignatz cheered. “Shamir, do you think you could move a little closer to the group?”

“Must I? ...Fine,” Shamir sighed.

“You sure know how to kill the mood, don't you Shamir?” Catherine laughed.

“Hmph.”

“Marianne, do you think you could smile for just one moment?” Ignatz requested.

“Oh! L-Like this?” Marianne asked, making her best attempt to smile.

“Almost but try making it less...forced,” Ignatz said tentatively.

“Forced?”

“Like this, Marianne!” Hilda cheered, making a silly expression.

“O-Oh, I see now.” Marianne said, smiling widely as she giggled in response.

“Just like that!” Ignatz nodded encouragingly.

“Marvelous.” Lorenz added endearingly.

“I’m almost done, it shouldn’t be much longer.” Ignatz assured them.

The room was quiet again as Ignatz resumed his sketches.

“Well, I’m bored...” Hilda sighed. “Does anyone have something they want to talk about while we wait?”

“Hmm, we could discuss our plans after the monastery,” Claude suggested.

“Ooh, good idea!” Hilda said. “Although I guess _your_ next move is obvious, Claude. You being Fodlan’s new leader and all. It’s too bad, I was really looking forward to visiting your hometown.”

“Oh, still interested, are you?” Claude smirked. “I’ll have to consider that the next time I visit.”

“And what about you, Lorenz? What will you do when you return home?” Hilda asked.

"I'm afraid I won't have any time for celebration. The raids conducted by Nemesis have left Gloucester territory in shambles,” Lorenz hummed softly in thought. "In addition, my father chose to flee during the assault when his people needed him most. This has earned him a bad rapport with the common folk."

Lorenz let out a tense sigh, but retained his composure as he resumed speaking.

"As such, I must begin preparations to succeed him as Count Gloucester. After which I intend to restore my territory as well as the people's faith in the nobility...and to that end, I will need to ally myself with capable individuals." Lorenz smiled as he glanced towards the others. "Raphael, Ignatz, would the two of you consider joining my house as Knights of Gloucester?”

“W-Woah, really?! You would take me as a knight?!” Raphael exclaimed excitedly.

“Certainly. Although you will need to work on your...courtly manners, you have shown yourself to be a capable warrior and a stalwart friend. Can I count on you, Raphael?” Lorenz asked with a pleasant smile.

“Of course!” Raphael exclaimed. “Don’t you worry, I’ll be the courtliest knight you’ve ever seen!”

“Wonderful.” Lorenz beamed. “And what about you, Ignatz? Will you accept my offer as well?”

“Oh! ...Hmm...” Ignatz paused for a moment in the middle of his sketches. “I’m sorry, Lorenz, but I’m afraid I must refuse. Once I have finished this piece, I’m hoping to draw acclaim and convince my father to let me follow my artistic passion.”

“Ah, I see...well, that is certainly a loss for House Gloucester, but I suppose it wouldn’t be fitting to keep your talent all to myself.” Lorenz chuckled. “Yes, for the good of Fodlan, you must continue to pursue your dream.”

“Way to go, Ignatz!” Leonie congratulated. “As for me, I plan to resume my mercenary work. There’s still plenty to be done in the aftermath of all this. How about you, Shamir? Do you intend to continue your life as a mercenary too?”

“That remains to be seen,” Shamir said shortly. “There’s little reason for me to remain in Fodlan, so I may continue my travels.”

“Hold on, you’re leaving the knights?!” Catherine objected.

“I am,” Shamir said. “I repaid my debt to Rhea and the war is finished. And you? Will you stay when Rhea is no longer around?”

“I...” Catherine paused. “...I’m not sure.”

Tension filled the room at the grim reminder that Rhea wouldn't be around for much longer.

“With the Archbishop gone, many of her duties shall fall to me...” Seteth sighed. “And the burden of restoring the church will be mine to bear.”

“Fear not, Brother. I shall assist you however I can,” Flayn promised.

“Thank you, Flayn. And although postwar duties shall keep me preoccupied, I intend to stay by Rhea’s side whenever possible.”

“Yeah...me too...” Catherine sighed.

“And what of you, Alois? Will you continue your service to the goddess?” Seteth asked.

“Now that this war is finally over, I really ought to visit my family,” Alois considered. “But with Garreg Mach rebuilt, I'm sure they will move back into town. After that, I intend to carry on the captain’s legacy!”

“That is understandable.” Seteth nodded. “I will seek out a temporary replacement to fill in for your duties while you are gone.”

Hilda turned to Lysithea next, a mischievous smile on her face.

“Sooo, Lysithea...any special plans?” Hilda asked in a playful tone.

“Nope.” Lysithea said, her flat tone masking her annoyance.

Ever since Lystithea's run-in with Claude in the library, it was evident that he had shared some of the details of their conversation with Hilda, who was now taking every opportunity to make suggestive comments regarding her non-existent love life with the professor.

“My only goal is to help my parents and my people,” Lysithea explained. “After Nemesis’ raid on the Hrym and Gloucester territories, things have become particularly unstable. Because of this there’s been a notable increase in bandit attacks. I doubt I can even stay long enough to attend the coronation ceremony.”

It was at Claude’s suggestion and with Seteth’s approval that the coronation ceremony was set to take place on Day 20 of the Horsebow Moon over two weeks from now. This would give the church enough time to finish restoring the cathedral, where the coronation would take place, and allow the messengers to spread the word of the coming event. For Lysithea, however, this would be too long a wait.

“I’m not sure if I will be able to take part either...” Marianne sighed sadly. “My adoptive father wishes me to come home right away. Apparently, I’m being hailed as a sort of hero.”

“Well that’s good, isn’t it?” Leonie asked. “It sounds like he’s finally starting to appreciate you.”

“I-I suppose that’s true, but...I was hoping I could stay here just a little longer...” Marianne mumbled.

“If that’s the case, then attend the coronation as the representative of House Edmund.” Lorenz suggested.

“Huh?” Marianne frowned in confusion.

“You are here to pledge House Edmund’s support to Fodlan’s new leader and forge connections with the other noble houses.” Lorenz explained. “Margrave Edmund is reasonable, I’m certain if you make your case from a diplomatic perspective, he will come to an agreement.”

“Oh! That’s a wonderful idea! Thank you, Lorenz,” Marianne said sweetly.

“Haha, no need for accolades. I am merely doing my duty, after all,” Lorenz chuckled. “Which reminds me, what are your plans, Professor? Where will you go when we have concluded our business?”

Everyone turned to face Byleth, who had been silent this entire time.

“...I’m also headed to Ordelia territory,” Byleth said after a slight pause.

“Is that so?” Claude asked with an amused smirk.

“The professor’s assisting me, offering his services as a mercenary while I aid my parents in political affairs,” Lysithea interjected, blushing slightly when Hilda let out an audible ‘aww’.

“Returning to the mercenary life, huh? I’ll admit, I’m surprised,” Shamir said. “I always thought you would be roped into politics.”

“Oh, but you will attend the coronation ceremony, won’t you, Professor?” Flayn pleaded.

Byleth gave a small smile, but simply shook his head.

“We’ll be leaving in a few days,” Byleth replied.

Claude’s amused expression immediately faded as he and Seteth exchanged worried glances.

“Hold on a moment, Teach...you don’t really mean that do you?” Claude protested.

“The war is over; I’m no longer needed,” Byleth stated.

“But Teach we _do_ need—"

“My role was on the battlefield; I’m not cut out for politics,” Byleth insisted in a polite but firm tone.

“Ha! I expected as much," Lorenz chuckled. “Ordinarily I would extend my offer of knighthood to you as well, Professor. But alas, it would seem you are destined for greater things.”

“You know, I wouldn’t mind doing mercenary work with you someday—if you’re up for it,” Leonie offered. “I’m sure many of the mercenaries from Jeralt’s group would be happy to see you too.”

Byleth nodded. 

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“I’m afraid that will not do,” Seteth said disapprovingly. “For your role in all of this, it is vital that you maintain a presence during the ceremony.”

“Oh, come on, ease up,” Hilda said defensively. “Hasn’t the professor done enough? It’s not as though you _need_ him for this, do you?”

“We’ve all been working really hard lately, but out of all of us, the professor’s been working the hardest,” Raphael added. “It’s time we started carrying some of that weight so the professor can rest up.”

“That’s...” Claude hesitated for a moment. “Teach, we’ve made it this far. I’m begging you, please lend me your support just one last time.”

“I’m sorry, Claude, but our journey ends here,” Byleth said, shaking his head with a patient smile.

“Aaand done,” Ignatz hummed. “I think that’s all the sketches I’ll need for now. Thank you so much for your help, everyone. You’re free to go.”

“Oof finally...” Hilda sighed. “Come on, Marianne, let’s go sample some pastries!”

“Oh, OK!” Marianne said.

“How about you, Lysithea? Wanna tag along?” Hilda offered.

“I...uh...” Lysithea paused, glancing to Byleth who simply nodded. “Yes, I’ll be right there!”

“I’ll meet you in the library later.” Byleth whispered in her ear before exiting the Cathedral along with the others.

While the others made their way out of the Cathedral, however, Claude and Seteth stayed behind.

“This does not bode well...” Seteth muttered when he and Claude were the only two remaining.

“Yeah, I know. That wasn’t the sort of response I was expecting,” Claude sighed.

“You will have to tell him the truth.”

“I’ll find a time and place for it, don’t worry.”

* * *

“Mmm, mm... these are delicious...” Lysithea sighed contently, stuffing her face with pastries as she sat with Hilda and Marianne under the gazebo.

“Woah! Slow down, Lysithea!” Hilda exclaimed. “Leave some for the rest of us, OK?”

“Err...sorry,” Lysithea mumbled awkwardly, wiping a bit of frosting from her cheek.

“No need for apologies. I’m glad you came,” Hilda said brightly. “Marianne was just telling me the other day how much she missed you.”

Lysithea raised an eyebrow and glanced towards Marianne.

“Oh, um...it’s just with the war coming to end, there will soon come a time when we all part ways...” Marianne said quietly. “You’re always so busy studying with the professor and I—well...I thought this might be our last chance to see you.”

“I know just what you mean...” Lysithea sighed. “The thought has weighed heavily on my mind as well.”

Lysithea's shortened lifespan wasn't the only thing she was worried about. Even if she and the professor managed to find a cure, there was still the matter of restoring her territory and renouncing her nobility. Once Lysithea saw to her family' dissolution, she would no longer be a noble woman, but a commoner. And a commoner like herself wouldn't have much opportunity to associate with the nobility, such as Hilda or Marianne.

“You know, when this is all over, we should take the opportunity to meet up from time to time,” Hilda suggested.

“It would be nice to have a _peaceful_ class reunion.” Lysithea nodded. “But with the state Ordelia territory’s in, I can hardly afford to travel.”

“That’s fine, we can just meet up at your estate,” Hilda suggested cheerfully.

“We can visit the professor too,” Marianne added with a soft smile.

“Oh, that’s right! The professor did say that’s where he was headed, didn’t he? Will he be staying with you, Lysithea?” Hilda asked.

“I—hmmm...” Lysithea frowned. “I...hadn’t given it much thought. I guess I'd better ask him during our next study session.”

“Now that you mention it, you two sure do a _lot_ of studying,” Hilda noted. “The war’s over, silly! This is your chance to relax, take a break for once!”

“Hmph. That might be all well and good for someone like you, but I have more important things to attend to,” Lysithea said a little impatiently.

“Someone like me? What does that mean? And what sort of things?” Hilda asked.

“The sort of things you would understand if you took any responsibility in your life,” Lysithea replied.

“What?! I have plenty of responsibilities!” Hilda pouted.

“Anyway, I’m studying in preparation to help my parents."

“And the professor?”

“He’s assisting me, of course.”

Hilda and Marianne side-eyed each other briefly before turning back to Lysithea.

“The professor...is helping you study economics and diplomacy?” Marianne asked, frowning in confusion.

“I...uhh—" Lysithea froze. Even _Marianne_ had been able to see through that lie.

“Wait a second, I see what’s going on here,” Hilda said with a mischievous smile.

“Y-You do?” Lysithea stuttered nervously.

“Yes!” Hilda affirmed. “The reason you’re always studying...is to prepare the professor for when he marries into House Ordelia, right?”

“Marriage?!” Lysithea exclaimed, looking flabbergasted. “I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, but it’s true, isn’t it?” Hilda pressed excitedly. “Admit it, the two of you are secretly engaged!”

“Ugh, will you knock it off already?” Lysithea grumbled. “There is _nothing_ going on between us.”

“But there _is_!” Hilda insisted. “Claude told me all about it! Come on, there’s no need to be embarrassed, I only want to help.”

“Have you even been listening to a word I’ve said?!” Lysithea exclaimed angrily. “For the last time, I don’t need your help and I don’t appreciate you prying into my personal life.”

“But I don’t understand why—”

“Hilda!” Marianne interrupted.

Hilda paused and glanced to Lysithea, now realizing that her comments hadn’t merely left Lysithea feeling flustered, but genuinely upset. Her head was lowered, she bore an intense frown on her face, and she was shaking slightly. Lysithea’s bangs fell over her eyes, making it difficult to tell if she was crying or not.

“Oh, I...did I say something wrong?” Hilda asked tentatively.

“I should be going now. Thanks for the sweets,” Lysithea muttered, rising from her chair.

“Lysithea wait—” Hilda called out, but it was too late, she was already gone.

* * *

**Verdant Wind**

**Fodlan’s New Dawn**

**Day 6 of the Horsebow Moon**

“Lysithea, do either of your parents have a Crest?” Byleth asked as he continued his note taking.

“My parents? No, they don’t. Crests are strong in my family’s bloodline, but my father was born without one and he married a commoner,” Lysithea explained. “His brother was meant to be heir to House Ordelia but...well, when the Empire came, he was put to death along with the others. My father was only spared because he played no role in house politics at the time. Neither of my parents were prepared for the struggles of governance and even now, they don’t have any family members they can rely on for help so...”

“...You want to be the sort of person they can rely on.” Byleth finished.

“Yes.” Lysithea nodded, grateful towards the professor’s understanding. “But why are you asking?”

“We need Crest-bearing blood for our experiments,” Byleth responded. “Even if Hanneman’s gone, I’m not sure it’s OK to take the Church’s blood samples with us.”

During the Alliance’s raid on Shambhala, Byleth and Lysithea had scoured the various research facilities of Those Who Slither in the Dark, seeking out any information that would aid them in their goal to remove Lysithea’s Crests. Although they never found research notes on the experiments conducted in Ordelia territory, they did discover various texts on ancient blood magic techniques that had the potential to cure Lysithea.

At the moment, the two of them were conducting their research in the privacy of Byleth’s room. While Byleth studied the ancient blood rituals of Those Who Slithered in the Dark, Lysithea was developing a serum referenced in the documents they found. Supposedly this serum could be used as a poison to temporarily dampen the power of Crests. It would be instrumental in performing the blood ritual that would save Lysithea.

“We have to. It’s the only way we can obtain the blood discreetly,” Lysithea said. “Speaking of which, have you made any progress with your research?”

“I can convert Major Crest blood into energy now,” Byleth said encouragingly. “But without the serum, I can’t practice the ritual. What about you? Any progress?”

“No...” Lysithea grumbled.

“Didn’t you say you had the formula figured out?”

“I did! ...Or I thought I did..." Lysithea sighed. "It worked when I tested it on a blood sample containing the Crest of Charon. But oddly it failed with the Crest of Gloucester.”

“Is it possible that different Crests require different formulas?”

“You’re probably right.” Lysithea nodded. “I did stumble across other formulas during my research, but the terminology they use is completely different from our own. It will be hard to decipher what ingredients will be required.”

“The greenhouse should provide us with anything we’ll need.”

"That's true. And while I'm no botanist, I'm sure the library could give us some clues as well. But it will take time."

Byleth frowned for a moment and placed a hand to his chin.

"We should consider staying longer and taking advantage of the monastery's resources," Byleth proposed.

“Perhaps, but since we’re on the subject there’s...something I’ve been meaning to ask,” Lysithea said, her face turning a faint pink.

“Alright, let’s hear it.”

“Err, I was wondering...were planning to stay with me once we returned to Ordelia territory?”

“...Would that be OK?” Byleth asked after a moment of hesitation.

Byleth was still inexperienced when it came to social norms and personal relationships, particularly those that involved the opposite sex. But after all this time even he was aware how...questionable it was to sleep under the same roof with a woman he wasn’t married to.

“I wouldn’t raise any objections—I-I mean it’s not like you have anywhere else you could stay.” Lysithea said in a slightly flustered tone. “But I should probably write a letter to my parents if that’s your intention. Actually, even if it isn’t, I should send them a letter anyway.”

“You haven’t told them about our research?” Byleth asked with a small frown

“No...and it’s better that they never find out,” Lysithea muttered. “So, for now, we’ll simply tell them that I’ve hired you on as a mercenary.”

"...Because you don't want them to know that you're afraid of dying?" Byleth suggested shrewdly.

“I-I—no!” Lysithea stammered. “I just...don’t want to give them false hope, in case things don’t work out.”

Lysithea swallowed nervously. The professor knew his students better than anyone, but sometimes it was unsettling just how well he knew them. As though he could read her mind. But thankfully Byleth nodded, seemingly content with her answer. For the first time, Lysithea had managed to successfully fib to him. Or so she thought.

“Anyway, I can provide you with the working formula I have, if you think it will help,” Lysithea offered.

“It would. And I’ll also need a blood sample from you,” Byleth requested.

“A...blood sample?”

“Your blood is more powerful than anything I’ve worked with. I’ll need to practice with it.”

“I suppose that makes sense, but um...would you mind using your blood instead?” Lysithea pleaded with a slight shudder. “Spilling my own makes me feel...queasy.”

“I can’t. My blood doesn’t bear a Crest.”

“Huh? But how can that be? You bear the Crest of Flames, don’t you?”

“My Crest comes from the Crest Stone Rhea implanted in me when I was a baby,” Byleth explained. “It doesn’t flow through my blood like yours.”

“Oh...I see...” Lysithea said with a dejected sigh. “Well, I guess it is _my_ blood you’ll be dealing with in the end.”

“Do you need time?”

“No...l-let’s get this over with,” Lysithea said shakily. “Um, do you mind helping me out, please?”

Byleth nodded and Lysithea rolled up her sleeve before extending her right arm, shivering slightly as dark childhood memories resurfaced. Byleth held her trembling hand in his unusually warm one, staring her into her eyes as he did so. Lysithea blushed and turned away, both embarrassed and comforted by this gesture.

“Just make it quick, OK?”

“I will,” Byleth assured her, pulling out his dagger with his free hand.

Lysithea closed her eyes, bracing herself for pain but...it never came. After nearly a minute of waiting, Lysithea opened her eyes once again and turned towards her professor.

“Professor, I’m ready.”

“I’ve already finished,” Byleth said, pointing to a small vial of blood on his desk.

“Wait—what?!” Lysithea exclaimed, withdrawing her hand and inspecting herself.

There was no sign of a cut, nor any bleeding on her arm or sleeve. Were it not for Byleth cleaning his bloodied dagger, Lysithea would have thought he was pulling some kind of trick on her.

“I didn’t even feel it...” Lysithea muttered. “You...have learned white magic remarkably quickly, considering you grew up without the church.”

“You said blood magic was dangerous. It’s important that I can heal you if things go wrong.”

“Hm, good point. Anyway, I should get started on that letter. Would you mind brewing us some more tea while I do that?”

Byleth nodded, grabbing the nearby teapot and refilling it with water before applying fire magic to steadily heat it up.

“Oh and what should I tell my parents about compensating you?” Lysithea asked.

“Room and board are enough; you don’t need to pay me,” Byleth said, dismissively.

“That’s unacceptable, Professor,” Lysithea objected. “Now that the war’s over, you need to consider your financial situation. Just tell me your usual fee and we’ll pay you, don’t worry.”

“...I don’t know,” Byleth said after a slight pause. “Jeralt always handled all the money.”

“Hm, yes. I think you mentioned that before...” Lysithea said with a small frown. “But surely you have some idea from your previous contract negotiations.”

“Jeralt handled those too.”

“Did you learn anything from watching him?”

“I was never around. He always kept me away from people.”

Lysithea gave Byleth a concerned look, remembering him once saying something similar five years ago.

“Professor that’s...awful,” Lysithea said sympathetically.

Lysithea had always admired and respected her professor, even seeing him as something as a role model back in the academy...it was only now starting to dawn on her just how young and inexperienced he really was. Byleth was always so focused on taking care of her but...if he was taking care of her, then who was taking care of him?

“You really ought to start considering your future,” Lysithea continued in a worried tone. “Have you given it any thought?”

“I have.” Byleth confirmed with a nod.

This was mostly true, but Byleth had no desire to divulge the details to Lysithea. At least not yet. Before their battle with Nemesis, he had paid a visit to his parent’s grave and vowed then and there that he wouldn’t let Lysithea die an early death. That he wouldn't lose her the same way Jeralt had lost Sitri. Once Lysithea was cured, Byleth planned to propose immediately afterwards and pass on Sitri’s ring, just as his father had always wanted.

“Do you intend to resume your mercenary work?” Lysithea asked.

“I’ve considered it.” Byleth said vaguely.

Continuing his life as a mercenary was one option and probably the most financially stable. Even if Byleth lacked social experience, he had built plenty of connections with the nobility that he could use to find contracts. However, as powerful as Lysithea was, Byleth doubted that the nomadic lifestyle of a mercenary would suit her. Not to mention it was a less than ideal environment to raise a family.

Alternatively, the two of them could become knights. It wasn’t as lucrative as mercenary work, but it was certainly more stable and Byleth was sure that one of his students or the Church would take them in. With the Church in mind, it was also possible that the Officers Academy would reopen and the two of them could become professors. Likely a more suitable option considering their talents. Or perhaps the two of them could find a place to settle down and sell sweets...Lysithea would like that.

“Professor...are you smiling?” Lysithea asked, mirroring his smile with one of her own. “What’s on your mind?”

“It’s nothing. I just—”

_Knock knock knock!_

“Professor? Are ya there?” A voice called out.

“What is it?” Byleth asked, opening the door.

It was Cyril.

“Oh, there ya are! I came to deliver a letter,” Cyril said, pulling out a note and reading it aloud. _“‘Let’s meet up at the Goddess Tower at midnight. Come alone.’_ That’s what it says. Kinda strange, isn’t it?”

Byleth nodded, but Lysithea gave Cyril a look of disapproval.

“Cyril! You can’t read someone's mail!” Lysithea scolded.

“Huh? But you told me I should read whenever I can,” Cyril said, tilting his head in confusion.

“Yes, but you can’t read another person’s mail, it’s an invasion of privacy!”

“Ah, I get ya. I should ask first, is that it?” Cyril said, causing Lysithea to sigh in response.

“Thank you,” Byleth said politely.

“Alright then, see ya later,” Cyril said, turning to leave.

“Oh! Wait, do you think you could deliver this for me?” Lysithea asked.

“Sure thing, Lysithea,” Cyril said, giving her a moment to hastily write a letter and tie it into a scroll.

“Thanks, Cyril,” Lysithea said, offering him the scroll.

“Alright, I’ll get this delivered quick.”

Byleth shut the door behind Cyril as he headed out and glanced back to the note.

 _“‘Goddess Tower at midnight,’_ ” Byleth repeated.

“It’s unsigned...” Lysithea noted, glancing over his shoulder.

“It’s from Claude.”

“Hm? How do you know that, Professor?”

“I’ve graded enough papers to recognize my student’s handwriting.”

“Ah, that makes sense but—hold on a moment, does that mean you knew who was sending you those messages in the Advice Box?!” Lysithea blurted out, her face going red.

Byleth intentionally chose to ignore this, instead glancing to his desk where Lysithea’s letter to her parents remained unfinished.

“Lysithea, you didn’t give him the letter,” Byleth pointed out.

“That will have to wait until later.” Lysithea sighed. “I need more time to explain the situation to my parents.”

“Then what did you give to Cyril?”

"Just some...final words."

~~~

Meanwhile, as Cyril left to resume his duties, he glanced towards the scroll Lysithea had given him.

“Now who’s this for?” Cyril wondered, glancing down at the name. “ _'To Ci...cey...ril...'_ oh! Cyril! That's me, right? She addressed this to me...so I can read it, yeah? Huh...now why would she write a letter if I was standing right there?"

Cyril frowned for a moment in confusion, wondering if there had been a mistake, but merely shrugged his shoulders and untied the scroll. He glanced down towards the contents of the message and read them out loud.

 _“‘Dear...Cyril. You are work...working so hard and I am pr—proud. You have...so much pot...poten-tie-all.’_ Oh! Potential, OK. Let’s see... _‘I hope you...apply yourself. I be...beli…eveh in—believe in you. From Ly...sit...he—Lysithea! From Lysithea!’_ " Cyril finished. "...Wow. That’s real nice of her to write those things. ...Huh, but how do I ‘apply’ myself? Well...I guess I could do more work until Lady Rhea gets better.”

* * *

Later that night, Byleth made his way to the Goddess Tower, which was notably unguarded. This was likely done on Claude’s orders to ensure privacy between himself and his professor. Byleth sighed as he made his way inside the tower and up the staircase. Knowing Claude, his former student was likely planning to coax him into doing something ceremonial or political. That’s what Claude usually did whenever the two of them were alone.

Upon reaching the top of the Goddess Tower, Byleth’s gaze fell upon a familiar scene. Claude stood before an open door, bathed in moonlight as he stared out into the night sky. He looked distinctly similar to how he did when Byleth found him here all those months ago during their reunion.

“Ah, Teach, I’m glad you could make it,” Claude said, turning his head and smiling just as sincerely as he had then.

“You called?” Byleth asked, returning Claude’s smile despite his apprehension.

“I did. I was hoping we could talk,” Claude said, beckoning Byleth over.

Byleth nodded and stood side by side with Claude, gazing outside the balcony. The Goddess Tower was one of the highest points in Fodlan, from here you could see all of Garreg Mach, including the nearby town beneath the starry sky.

“Incredible view, eh? It’s thanks to your hard work that this bountiful land can once again know peace.”

“It’s not over yet,” Byleth said wearily.

“True.” Claude nodded. “There’s still much to do before Fodlan can become a stable and unified country. Once the coronation ceremony is complete, a new ruling system will be founded, and we can begin developing a new value system for the people.”

 _‘Here he goes with the ‘we’ again...’_ Byleth thought.

Byleth didn’t respond. He knew what Claude was going to say next. He was going to ask Byleth to attend the coronation ceremony and offer ‘spiritual support’ in place of Rhea or ‘raise the people’s morale’ or something to that effect. But Byleth wasn’t going to do it. Not this time. He had protected his students and helped Claude complete his objective...and now he had his own goal to see to.

“Two weeks from now,” Claude continued after a few moments. “Day 20 of the Horsebow Moon. Do you know the significance of that date, Teach?”

“It’s the day you’re crowned king?” Byleth answered, unable to think of anything else.

For some reason, Claude burst out laughing at this response and Byleth turned to him in confusion.

“Teach! It’s your birthday!” Claude exclaimed.

“...What?”

Byleth turned towards Claude, raising his eyebrows in perplexion.

“It was in Jeralt’s diary, remember?” Claude said. “Day 20 of the Horsebow Moon...that was the day you were born. And it’s because of you that Fodlan can finally know peace and unity. What better day to celebrate Fodlan’s New Dawn than the birthday of its savior? ...How old will you be anyway?”

“I have no idea...” Byleth muttered.

19? 22? 26? 27? Due to the way Jeralt raised him, Byleth always had a hard time remembering how old he was supposed to be. And spending five years asleep only made the situation even more complicated.

_“By the time you're forgetting your own age, you're past the point of caring.”_

That was an accurate way to describe how Byleth felt at the moment. And more importantly, what was Claude playing at? Was setting up the coronation on the day of his birth Claude's way of emotionally manipulating him into attending the ceremony? Well, it wasn’t going to work.

“You never change, Teach,” Claude smirked. “Anyway, the reason I called you here was because I wanted to discuss your birthday gift.”

“My...gift?” Byleth repeated slowly.

“I’ve been thinking about it for a while now and I believe I’ve found the perfect gift for our favorite professor,” Claude winked. “I know it’s a bit early but...here you go.”

Claude simply pointed out the window and Byleth stared in bewilderment

“...I’m giving you all of Fodlan, Teach.” Claude said with a small smile.

“What are you talking about?” Byleth frowned.

“On the day of the coronation ceremony, you will be the one who is crowned king.” Claude explained. “But unfortunately...this is also where my path diverges from yours.”

Claude exhaled for a moment before letting out a loud whistle, summoning his white wyvern to the tower. As the wyvern perched by its master’s side, Byleth stared on in disbelief. _King?!_ He didn’t want to be king—no, he _couldn’t_ be king! Byleth didn’t know how to be a ruler! And if he was king, then Lysithea...he wouldn’t be able to—

“No,” Byleth said in an unusually firm tone.

Claude paused as he approached his pet and sighed, having expected some reluctance.

“I can’t stay here, Teach.” Claude said gently. “I’ve done all I can for Fodlan, but there’s more that I need to accomplish. I must return to my homeland.”

“You’re running away.”

Claude bristled at this. There was something accusatory about the way Teach said this...as if he were suggesting that Claude was some sort of coward, fleeing from responsibility.

“I’m not running away.” Claude said as patiently as he could. “The people of Fodlan have you. You're the successor Rhea appointed, and you’re also the hero who saved Fodlan. The people want to see you on the throne, Teach, not me.”

“You set me up.”

Claude frowned. Now he was definitely being called out.

“Teach, I promise I wouldn’t—” Claude started.

“You used me as a symbol for your war. For _your_ agenda.” Byleth interrupted. “You made me into a public figure so Fodlan would have someone to turn to when you abandoned them.”

“I did this for _you,_ Teach!” Claude exclaimed.

Claude wasn’t lying when he said this.

“You did this for yourself, Claude.” Byleth stated.

...But he wasn’t telling the entire truth either.

“Teach I...I thought you wanted this.” Claude said with a small frown.

“Why would you think that?” Byleth asked, arms folded.

“You once told me how happy you were to be our professor. That we were your first friends and that guiding us was the most meaningful thing you ever did in your life.” Claude elaborated. “Well isn’t this the same? The people of Fodlan look up to you. They rely on you. And you’ll guide them the same way you guided us. In a way...you will be the professor for all of Fodlan.”

Byleth’s expression softened a bit. He hadn’t thought of it that way. There was some truth to what Claude said. Whether he was good at it or not, guiding his students was what filled his life with purpose. It was helping others that gave him a sense of personal worth and value. Claude noticed this shift in demeanor and immediately capitalized on it.

“What’s more, with this position you'll be able to keep in touch with the Golden Deer.” Claude added. “Think about it, all of your students—even the commoners—are going into high places. Nobles, knights, renown professionals in their field...the sort of people you wouldn’t often interact with unless you also held status. You will be working with them to rebuild Fodlan. Admit it, Teach, this is the best situation you could ask for.”

“...You’re right,” Byleth confessed after a short pause. “This _is_ ideal.”

“I knew you’d understand.” Claude said with a satisfied smile, offering his hand.

Byleth didn’t take it. He _did_ understand and, if the situation had been different, he might have seen things Claude’s way and accepted the role of ruler. A life where he could help others and stay close to his students was a dream come true, but with the way things were...

“I still can’t accept,” Byleth said flatly.

Claude blinked, tilting his head and staring at Byleth with a disapproving frown.

“I don’t get it, Teach. You...just agreed with me, didn't you?”

“You’re right. You _don’t_ get it.” Byleth sighed wearily, fully aware that Claude couldn’t truly understand the situation without knowing Lysithea’s plight.

“And what does that mean?”

“It means I’m making my own decisions now. And I promised Lysithea I would help her.”

“And you still can,” Claude assured him. “With the power you wield, you’ll be able to supply Ordelia Territory with all the troops and funds they could ever need. Lysithea will have her territory restored in no time! ...And then you’ll have her at your side. You won’t need to handle this alone.”

Claude gave a reassuring smile that Byleth didn’t return. It was clear that Claude had given the situation a lot of thought, but for Byleth, fulfilling the promise he made to Lysithea, to Jeralt, and to himself was the most important thing right now.

“I’m not going to be ruler,” Byleth reaffirmed.

Claude frowned sternly at his professor who—from Claude’s perspective—was being completely unreasonable at the moment, before climbing onto his wyvern and mounting himself on its back.

“It’s already been decided, Teach.” Claude said in a firm tone.

“By you. By Seteth. By Rhea. By everyone who has taken control of my life.”

Claude lowered his gaze. He didn’t have a good rebuttal to this.

“I’m sorry...” Claude muttered.

He meant it.

“Sorry enough to take responsibility for the kingdom you founded?” Byleth asked.

“No.”

“If you leave now, Fodlan will be left without a ruler and will fall into chaos.” Byleth warned him.

“It won’t. Because in the end, I know you will do the right thing, Teach. ...You always do.”

“Like you’re doing, Claude?”

“I hoped we would have parted on better terms.” Claude sighed bitterly. “But this is something I _must_ do. In the end, my conscience is clear.”

“And what do I tell the others?”

“Whatever suits you, Teach,” Claude said with a sad, fake smile. “Say I ran away from my responsibilities if that makes you feel better. But...I do have one request.”

Byleth grimaced. Claude was hardly in a position to request anything of him right now.

“What is it?” Byleth asked.

“This is for Hilda.” Claude said, tossing Byleth a scroll. “Deliver this to her in secret as soon as you can, OK? It’s for her eyes only.”

Byleth didn’t say a thing, catching the scroll and accidentally crumpling it in his frustration.

“Thank you...for everything,” Claude said with a weak grin. “I know you’re not happy with me right now, but the next time we meet...I hope you will still consider yourself to be my Teach. Until then, farewell my friend.”

With that, Claude’s wyvern took off to the sky. As the white beast flew away, Claude waved his final goodbye as he left Fodlan...and Byleth behind.


	23. Scholar of Misfortune (Verdant Wind: 9/7)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In a surprising turn of events, Claude has declared his former professor to be the new sovereign ruler of Fodlan. Refusing to give up on his goal, Byleth is determined to save Lysithea before his coronation in two weeks. Can they remove her Crests before time runs out?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're almost at the end! Just one more chapter after this...

**Verdant Wind**

**Fodlan’s New Dawn**

**Day 7 of the Horsebow Moon**

Byleth had hoped for a little more time to come up with an explanation for Claude’s departure, but it was clear that the Alliance leader’s absence had not gone unnoticed. By the time Byleth joined the dining hall for breakfast the following morning, the monastery was already abuzz with rumors of Claude’s disappearance, and it wasn’t long before paranoid theories of kidnapping began to surface.

In order to prevent the monastery from falling into a state of panic, Byleth called for a meeting in the Cardinal’s Room to discuss the situation. Many of the Golden Deer and church faculty had already assembled, though a few were still absent. Byleth drummed his fingers on the cardinal’s table somewhat impatiently, waiting for the late arrivals.

“I’ve received word from one of the knights,” Seteth said, taking Claude’s usual seat at Byleth’s right. “Catherine and Shamir will not be joining us. They have recently departed on a reconnaissance mission within the Empire.”

“Recon?” Raphael repeated, frowning in confusion. “But I thought all the fighting was over.”

“Although the imperial army has been dealt with, the embers of war still linger,” Seteth explained. “We must be wary of any potential uprising while Fodlan remains in such a fragile state.”

“If those two aren’t coming, then I suppose that’s everyone, hm?” Alois said, glancing around the room.

“Wait, um...where’s Hilda?” Marianne asked.

“I’m here. Sorry for being late, Professor,” Hilda said in an unusually subdued voice as she arrived and took her seat.

“Hilda, are you OK?” Leonie asked worriedly.

“Huh? Oh, yeah...I’m fine. Just fine,” Hilda said quietly.

Byleth frowned. He had delivered the letter to Hilda's room in the dead of night, just as Claude has requested. Although Byleth never read the message himself, it was clear that it's contents had an impact on Hilda. It wasn’t unusual for her to be distracted, but this wasn’t Hilda's typical absentmindedness. She was focused...and yet strangely distant. Hilda wasn’t her usual bubbly self, yet neither was she sad. Byleth could tell that she had a lot on her mind.

“It would seem everyone is accounted for,” Seteth said. “Let us begin.”

“We have come to discuss Claude’s disappearance, correct?” Flayn asked.

“I recall that you were to meet with Claude last night, Professor,” Lysithea noted. “Do you know what happened?”

She immediately regretted asking this. Although Byleth wasn’t very expressive, Lysithea knew him well enough to read his subtle facial cues. He had clearly wanted to keep his meeting with Claude a secret, but it was too late now.

“I did,” Byleth admitted. “That’s why I called you all here.”

“Well, don’t leave us in suspense,” Lorenz prompted. “What is Claude's status? Can you confirm his whereabouts?”

“He didn’t tell me...” Byleth muttered.

The room filled with murmurs at this statement. What Byleth said was true, however he _did_ have a strong feeling on where Claude was headed. If his theory was right, Claude would be in Almyra right now. But Byleth had no intention of telling the others this, or of Claude's decision to name him king.

“Will he be back in time for the coronation ceremony?” Ignatz asked worriedly.

“...He’s not coming back,” Byleth stated.

At this, several voices rang out at once.

“What?!”

“You can’t be serious!”

“He’s _gone_?!”

“N-No...he wouldn’t just leave us, would he?”

“But what will happen to Fodlan?”

Among those at the table, only Hilda and Seteth seemed to be unfazed by this revelation, but none took it as badly as Lorenz, whose face was contorted with anger and absolute disgust.

“Outrageous! The sheer negligence!” Lorenz spat, his look of frustration soon turning to anguish. “I...I should have foreseen this. He once spoke of abdicating his responsibility to the Alliance, but I didn’t take him seriously at the time. When I proposed to unite Fodlan in his stead, I didn’t think he would...”

Lorenz sighed and Byleth’s eyes widened. Did he hear right? _Lorenz_ would be willing to take on the responsibilities of Fodlan? To become king in his place?

“You mustn’t blame yourself, Lorenz,” Marianne reassured him soothingly. “You couldn’t have known.”

“I do suppose you are right...” Lorenz conceded with a heavy heart.

“I just can’t believe he’d just abandon us like that,” Leonie said, sounding a little hurt.

“Did he tell you why he was leaving, Professor?” Ignatz asked anxiously.

“...No,” Byleth lied.

The room became rather sullen at this response and Byleth felt a pang of guilt in his chest. No matter how poorly Claude had acted, Byleth knew it was wrong to lie about him like this. Two individuals stood out among the crowd of crestfallen students. Hilda, who glanced towards her professor with a suspicious expression, and Seteth, who gave Byleth a piercing look. It was clear that he could see right through this fib.

“Disgraceful...” Lorenz muttered. 

Besides Byleth, it was Lorenz who was the most hurt by Claude’s decision to leave.

“But if he’s gone, who’s gonna take care of Fodlan?” Raphael frowned.

“We must reach a consensus,” Flayn prompted. “The people are in dire need of a leader!”

“You mentioned you were willing, Lorenz?” Byleth suggested, hoping to receive immediate approval, however—

“Alas, Professor, I cannot accept,” Lorenz said with a halfhearted chuckle.

“Why not?” Byleth frowned.

“Were there none more qualified, I would happily take on the mantle of king.” Lorenz replied. “However, that is not the case here. No, I cannot accept this position in good faith when there is one more suitable right before me.”

Lorenz smiled sincerely at this humbling statement, but Byleth was filled with dread.

“You’re the only one who can do this, Professor,” Seteth added, his tone not that of a gentle suggestion but a firm reminder. “You are Rhea’s successor, the inheritor of Sothis’ divine power. You and you alone can save Fodlan from falling into chaos. The people will accept no other.”

“Well said, Seteth!” Alois boomed. “It is because of you, Professor, that we have triumphed against the Empire and defeated Nemesis. There is none more worthy than you to sit upon the throne. I’m sure the captain is looking down at you with pride—I know I am.”

Never before did Byleth wish so dearly that he could express his discomfort than he did now. He thought back to all the times Lysithea had been able to communicate her feelings just by looking at him. What he wouldn't give to be able to look into Alois' eyes and silently plead for help—to wordlessly show the others that he did not desire this. But he couldn’t. And it was too late. Everyone was already cheering their approval.

“How wonderful, the professor as Fodlan’s guardian,” Marianne cheered.

“You guided us through the academy and through this war, I’m sure you can guide Fodlan through its restoration,” Ignatz said confidently.

“And we shall do all that we can to support you as well, Professor!” Flayn added.

“Does that mean the coronation ceremony is back on?" Raphael asked excitedly. "Haha, all right! Big ceremonies mean big feasts!”

“It’s...what Claude would have wanted, right?” Hilda said tonelessly.

“I’m with Alois on this,” Leonie nodded. “I’m sure the captain would be proud. And if you ever need mercenary work done, you know who to call.”

Lysithea offered Byleth a weak, encouraging smile but didn’t say a word, instead lowering her head despondently. Lysithea knew what this decision would mean for her, but she couldn’t bring herself to argue. After all, she couldn’t think of anyone better suited for king than her professor. And really, he would be better off using his talents to serve the people of Fodlan instead of searching in vain for a cure that probably didn’t exist.

...Still, this was the second time Byleth had promised to accompany her home, only to be torn away.

“It would seem we have reached a unanimous decision then.” Seteth stated. “The coronation ceremony shall proceed as previously scheduled and Byleth Eisner will be appointed as Fodlan’s sovereign ruler. Unless there are any objections, I hereby adjourn this meeting.”

“Oh congratulations, Professor!” Flayn said excitedly.

Byleth nodded and gave Flayn a forced smile—or at least he tried to—as everyone else rose from their seat. Hilda and Lysithea were the first to make their way to the door.

“Truly, there is none more deserving,” Lorenz complimented, offering his hand.

“Thank you,” Byleth said, quickly shaking Lorenz’s hand as he tried to follow Lysithea. “I—"

“Haha! Way to go, Professor!” Raphael boomed.

“Thank you, Raphael.” Byleth repeated, sliding past him, only to be blocked once again by Ignatz.

“Professor, I just wanted to—” Ignatz started.

“I’m sorry, but I’m in a hurry,” Byleth apologized, moving past Ignatz and accidentally pushing Alois out of the way in his rush.

As Byleth exited the Cardinal’s Room, he caught a glimpse of Lysithea’s snowy white hair whipping out of sight as she turned the corridor. Byleth made to follow her, however—

“Professor,” Seteth called, stopping Byleth in his tracks. “There is a matter I would like to discuss, if you don’t mind.”

Byleth gritted his teeth. He very much _did_ mind but, seeing no other alternative, simply nodded and followed Seteth into the common room, shutting the door behind him.

“What do you need?” Byleth asked.

“First and foremost, I would like to apologize,” Seteth sighed. “I understand that, growing up with Jeralt the way you did, you never did have a chance to live a normal life. And because of the position Rhea has granted you, you may never see that opportunity. Secondly, and on a more personal note, I would like to further apologize for misleading you.”

“You were aware of Claude’s plan.”

This was a statement, not a question.

“I won’t deny it,” Seteth admitted. “And if you come to resent me for the role I’ve played in this, then all I can do is ask that you find it in your heart to one day forgive me.”

“I don’t resent you,” Byleth muttered, glancing to the floor.

“And yet you still seem troubled,” Seteth noted. “I couldn’t help but notice, you intended to pass off the responsibility of leadership to one of your students, did you not?”

Byleth didn’t respond.

“I hope you understand why I could not permit it,” Seteth continued. “All of Fodlan, noble and commoner alike, are looking to you for guidance. I have no desire to burden you with this task, but you are the only one capable of fulfilling this role.”

“That can’t be true...” Byleth frowned. “I have no experience.”

“After all you have accomplished, do you still doubt your capabilities?” Seteth asked. “Or is there something more to your reluctance? Please, if there is anything troubling you, you need not conceal it from me.”

“...It’s not my secret to share,” Byleth said after a short pause.

“I see. In which case, I shall not pry. But do know that I will always be at your side. It is my sworn duty to assist you, so if there is anything I can do to alleviate your troubles, I hope you will confide in me."

Byleth paused for a moment, thinking it over.

“...Actually...there is something I would like you to do.”

* * *

_Knock knock knock._

“Come in.” Lysithea said, not even bothering to glance over her shoulder as the door behind her opened.

Lysithea already knew who it was and what they had come to say. Sure enough, it came as no surprise when she heard Byleth speak.

“Lysithea I—"

“No need to apologize, Professor,” Lysithea interrupted, her back towards him as she continued to unpack. “I’m fully aware that this outcome wasn’t of your choosing. I’m...sorry you had all this forced onto you.”

Lysithea could feel the weight of Byleth’s hand on her shoulder and although her first instinct was to turn around and embrace him, she contained her emotions and resisted this urge. Getting weepy would only make the professor’s situation more difficult, after all.

“You’re unpacking,” Byleth noted, seeing that Lysithea had lain her clothes out once again.

“Yes. I wanted to leave as soon as possible but...” Lysithea sighed. “I figured I ought to at least stay for the coronation ceremony. I-I...want to support you, Professor.”

“Thank you,” Byleth murmured quietly. “...That should give us just enough time to find a cure.”

Lysithea frowned, and this time turned to face Byleth with a furrowed brow and a look of hurt and confusion on her face.

“Surely you don’t mean that...”

“You know I wouldn’t joke about this,” Byleth stated.

Lysithea sighed and shook her head. No, of course he wouldn’t. And it had been foolish of her to suggest otherwise. But still...

“The coronation ceremony is in less than two weeks!” Lysithea exclaimed. “And, with your new title, you must be drowning in responsibilities!”

“Seteth has agreed to handle all of my duties until the coronation ceremony." Byleth gently reassured her.

“Professor!” Lysithea cried in exasperation. “That’s completely careless of you! I mean, really. You’re the new ruler of Fodlan, you can’t just hand off your workload! That’s so...so—”

“Hilda-like?” Byleth suggested.

Lysithea simply scowled and folded her arms, giving him a disapproving look.

“You’re usually so responsible, Professor. I can’t believe you would just—” Lysithea started

“Seteth agreed that it was only fair I have time to sort out my affairs.”

“Uh huh, your ‘affairs’.” Lysithea rolled her eyes. “I think you mean our fruitless attempts to find a cure. You do understand that all the notes we’ve been reading are theoretical, don't you? There’s no guarantee that—"

“I’m not giving up on you,” Byleth said with a firm tone and furrowed brow.

Lysithea lowered her gaze and exhaled. She couldn't stay mad at the professor. Byleth was doing this because he deeply cared about her. Lysithea was inexperienced with romance, sure, but she wasn't a fool nor was she a child...she knew that he had feelings for her. And yet because of this, Lysithea couldn't help but feel like a burden to the world. The professor was pushing aside his obligations just for her sake, all when Fodlan needed him most.

“Don’t blame yourself,” Byleth said, as if reading her mind. “This was _my_ decision. It’s the first decision I’ve been allowed to make in a long time. I want to keep my promise.”

“But only two weeks...” Lysithea repeated.

“It’s more than enough time if I have you at my side,” Byleth said, taking her hand. “We’re close to finding the answer. We can do this.”

Lysithea blushed and let out a sigh, both in annoyance and admiration. What _was_ it about the professor that made him so...persuasive? Despite his modest personality, Byleth had a way of assuring his students that he could handle any problem or overcome any obstacle, no matter how big it seemed or how many unknowns there were...and so far, he had never let them down.

“All right, you convinced me,” Lysithea said wearily, giving Byleth a weak but genuine smile. “I’ll continue helping you as much as I can—at least until the coronation. After that...I really must return home. I can’t afford to stay here forever.”

“I understand.” Byleth nodded. “We can get it done by then as long as we work hard. I’ll fetch the ingredients from the greenhouse as well as some tea leaves.”

“Just don’t get those mixed up, OK? Some of those plants are extremely poisonous!” Lysithea called out as Byleth made his way outside. “Oh, and Professor?”

“Hm?” Byleth asked, stopping at the door and glancing over his shoulder.

“...Thank you.”

* * *

**Verdant Wind**

**Fodlan’s New Dawn**

**Day 10 of the Horsebow Moon**

“Do you think this will work?” Byleth asked as Lysithea led the way down to the monastery’s dungeon, using fire magic to light the way.

“I wouldn’t get your hopes up,” Lysithea urged, shaking her head. “And I’m not just saying that to be pessimistic either. Blood rituals are incredibly complicated. And this is your first-time performing blood magic on a living subject, isn’t it?”

“It is. So why do we need to conduct the ritual here?” Byleth asked as Lysithea glanced inside various prison cells.

“Is there somewhere else you would rather perform it?”

“The infirmary. Or anywhere the physicians and monks could monitor us.”

“Professor...” Lysithea sighed disapprovingly.

“I know you’d rather keep your Crests a secret but—"

“I have no choice,” Lysithea corrected him. “If people were to discover my twin Crests, it would ruin me. My family would be hounded by Crest scholars and my parents would never get another peaceful moment.”

“I understand,” Byleth said. “I’m just worried about you.”

“Hmph, what’s gotten into you, Professor? You never dote on me this much.” Lysithea muttered, her blushing face illuminated by the magical flame.

“You did say that blood magic can be very dangerous,” Byleth reminded her. “If I make any mistakes...”

“Once the serum is applied, we should be fine,” Lysithea reassured him. “So long as my blood lacks Crest power, not much can go wrong.”

Byleth sighed wearily and nodded.

“I have faith in you, Professor,” Lysithea said, smiling encouragingly as she led him into a nearby cell.

“What’s our goal if we’re not likely to succeed?” Byleth asked as Lysithea pulled out a piece of chalk and began inscribing a circle along with various runes onto the cell wall.

“Experience and research. Even if we fail, we’re bound to learn something useful from all of this,” Lysithea explained. “Now the notes mention that we will need a conduit to take in my Crests. Did you manage to convince Catherine to loan you Thunderbrand?”

“I found her sleeping when she returned from recon,” Byleth said, unsheathing the sword.

“Wait—are you saying you _stole_ it?!”

“Catherine is always watching me. If I asked, she would have investigated.”

“But—"

“I’ll return it before she wakes up.”

“Fine, you’ve made your point.” Lysithea sighed, withdrawing Thyrsus and placing it against the wall.

“Are you sure this will work?” Byleth asked, as he placed Thunderbrand next to Thyrsus.

“Based on the nature of your own Crest, I think it’s clear that the Crest Stones contain the same power as a Crest,” Lysithea hypothesized. “So theoretically, a Crest Stone should be a suitable conduit to take in the power of my own Crests, don’t you agree?”

“I can’t think of anything else.” Byleth confessed. “Are you ready?”

"Just a moment." Lysithea said scribbling a few notes. "...Done! OK, let's begin."

Since toppling the Empire, the Church of Seiros had stopped taking in prisoners of war, which meant the dungeons were now a secluded area where they could perform blood rituals and conduct research in peace. Or at least that’s what Byleth assumed they had come here for, but apparently Lysithea had another reason as well.

“Here’s the key, Professor,” Lysithea said, handing him a prison key.

“What’s this for?” Byleth frowned.

“To prevent me from moving, of course,” Lysithea responded, placing her arms into a pair of wall shackles.

"Uh..."

"It's to keep me from moving," Lysithea repeated.

"Absolutely not." Byleth said, folding his arms.

"If my body leaves the circle during the ritual, the results could be disastrous."

"Even so..."

"I can't afford to be thrashing about, so please just listen, won't you?" Lysithea insisted.

“All right...” Byleth sighed, latching the shackles together. “Do you think this will be painful?”

“Very. Which is why I’m placing myself in such a humiliating position.”

“Sorry. Are you ready for the serum?” Byleth asked, pulling out a pair of syringes he ‘borrowed’ from Hanneman’s room.

"Um...sure," Lysithea said reluctantly.

"Are you OK?"

“I hate needles...”

An ordinary person might have laughed at how childish this sounded, but Byleth, who knew of Lysithea’s childhood experience, merely nodded sympathetically as he rolled down her sleeve and began numbing her arm with white magic.

"Don't worry, it won't hurt a bit," Byleth promised, quoting Hanneman, though this only made Lysithea feel a bit more uncomfortable.

Byleth proceeded to inject her arm with one serum and then the next, before making a light incision on Lysithea’s forearm to access her blood.

“Nnnngg...” Lysithea groaned as the pain flared up the moment Byleth released her arm and the numbing effect wore off.

“Are you—?”

“I—I’ll be fine...don’t worry about me, OK?”

“How long will the serum last?”

“A little under two hours...” Lysithea grunted. “That should give us plenty of time.”

Byleth nodded and pulled out their notes on blood magic, shuffling through them until he found two papers. One contained a set of instructions for the blood ritual Byleth would be practicing. It would take several successive blood rituals to remove Lysithea's Crests. The purpose of the first ritual would be establishing a link between Lysithea's Crests and a conduit, in this case the Heroes Relics.

On the second paper was the necessary incantations to ensure this ritual's success. Lysithea, who had a deeper understanding of magic and the influence of the spoken word had painstakingly written down the incantation herself for the professor's benefit.

...And also because she knew Byleth sometimes struggled to read his own handwriting.

After taking a moment to review the procedure, Byleth began reciting the spell. With each word, the runes and circle that Lysithea had drawn glowed an ever brighter purple. Lysithea groaned in pain as the ritual took effect and her blood reacted to the magic. Byleth did his best to ignore this and continued chanting uninterrupted until—

“Y-You stopped...!” Lysithea gasped. “Is something wrong?

“I’ve completed the incantation,” Byleth muttered, his brow furrowed with concentration. “But synchronizing your Crests with the Relics is...difficult.”

“It won’t be easy with the poison subduing them.”

“It’s not that. Your Crests are too...intertwined. I can’t separate the energy.”

“I—agh—hadn’t considered that,” Lysithea grunted. “Hand me the Relics, I’ll try resonating with them myself.”

“That’s dangerous,” Byleth warned, worried that with her Crests suppressed, Lysithea wouldn’t be compatible with the Heroes Relics.

“We have to try something, don’t we?”

“If you insist...” Byleth said reluctantly, picking up Thunderbrand and Thyrsus before passing them to Lysithea, whose hands were still shackled.

When Lysithea grabbed onto the Relics, however, not only did they glow red, but they glowed even brighter than usual and were humming very loudly.

“That’s not normal.” Byleth frowned.

“No, it’s not—something’s wrong!” Lysithea exclaimed as the two Relics continued glowing brighter and brighter. “Agh!”

Lysithea shut her eyes and dropped the Relics while Byleth held a hand to his face to shield himself from the blinding light Thunderbrand and Thyrsus were giving off. Even though they were no longer being held, they retained some form of connection with Lysithea due to the ritual.

“What’s going on?” Byleth asked, a rare tone of panic in his voice.

“The serum’s worn off and the Relics are absorbing too much power!”

“It’s only been a few minutes. How—”

“AGGGHHH!!!”

Lysithea screamed as the two Heroes Relics began to magically draw out her blood at a rapid rate, using her blood's power to sustain themselves. They were glowing so brightly now that the entire dungeon was illuminated in a reddish hue.

“I’ll undo the ritual—” Byleth started.

“It’s too late, Professor, I—GAH! G-Get out of here!” Lysithea cried as the Relics started shaking, becoming more and more volatile, as if ready to explode at any moment.

“Not without you,” Byleth said, using the key to undo Lysithea's shackles before pulling her away.

“Wait, Professor, you can’t—”

_BOOM!_

The moment Lysithea was pulled out of the ritual circle, there was a brilliant flash of light and Byleth could feel his entire body engulfed in a deadly magical energy that quickly tore him apart. Just moments before death, he could hear Lysithea’s final screams ringing out through the explosion as she—

~~~

“Hmph, what’s gotten into you, Professor?” Lysithea muttered once again.

In a state of desperation and panic, Byleth had pushed the Divine Pulse to its limit, travelling back as far as he could.

“You never dote on me this mu—P-Professor?!” Lysithea gasped as Byleth began to stumble forward.

Byleth had never used the Divine Pulse to travel this far back before. Using this much power had not only taken a massive toll on his body to the point where he could hardly stand, but had greatly fatigued him as well. Byleth was feeling very faint at the moment, and it was only a matter of time until—

“H-Hey are you all—PROFESSOR!” Lysithea shouted as Byleth toppled face first down a flight of stairs, collapsing from exhaustion.

* * *

Byleth groaned slightly as he was awakened by a familiar sweet scent. He was in his room, lying in bed and Lysithea was sitting at his desk, preparing one of her favorite teas, the Honeyed-Fruit Blend. Upon hearing his stirring, she turned to face her professor.

“Professor!” Lysithea exclaimed, setting down the teapot and sitting on the bed beside him.

“Nnngg...what happened?” Byleth mumbled, placing a hand to his throbbing forehead.

“I think I’m the one who should be asking that.” Lysithea said with a concerned frown. “We were about to start the ritual and then you just...passed out all the sudden.”

Byleth glanced around for a moment, getting a better sense of his surroundings.

“How did you carry me here?” Byleth asked.

“I didn’t. I had to ask Catherine for help.”

“Catherine, she—”

“—Wasn’t happy that you took Thunderbrand without permission.” Lysithea gently scolded.

“I’m surprised she didn’t kill me in my sleep.” Byleth joked.

“That’s because I covered for you. I told her I borrowed it for training.”

“And she believed you?”

“Um, sort of...she wanted to know why we were in the dungeon.”

“What did you tell her?”

“...That we wanted a change of scenery.” Lysithea mumbled awkwardly as Byleth shook his head disapprovingly at her unconvincing excuse. “But more importantly, what happened, Professor? Are you feeling all right?”

“I didn’t sleep well last night,” Byleth lied.

“Didn’t sleep well...” Lysithea repeated slowly when it suddenly dawned on her. “Wait...you stayed up late last night and studied without me, didn’t you?”

Byleth nodded, knowing she was likely to believe this.

“Professor!” Lysithea exclaimed. “We both agreed to split the workload _equally_ and that we would get to bed at the same time!”

“You’re right. I’m sorry.”

“Ugh! You should have warned me you were fatigued.”

“I didn’t want to worry you.”

“I’ve told you how dangerous blood magic is, haven't I? If you had collapsed like that during the ritual—”

“—It would have been bad for both of us,” Byleth finished.

“I think you mean it would have been a _disaster,_ ” Lysithea corrected him, folding her arms.

“It was reckless and irresponsible of me,” Byleth agreed.

“It was completely reckless and irr—err...well, uh...don’t do it again, OK?” Lysithea mumbled, a bit disarmed by his response.

“I won’t, I promise.”

Lysithea huffed, feeling a mixture of admiration and annoyance in how maturely the professor was handling all of this. She wanted to be angry with him right now, but she couldn't when Byleth was doing this all for her sake. At the very least Lysithea wanted a reason to scold him a bit more. ...To make sure he took better care of himself from now on. The irony of this wasn’t lost on her.

“I’ll hold you to that,” Lysithea said as sternly as she could. “...And, um, I’m sorry for snapping at you. I just hate feeling like I’m not contributing enough, you know?”

Byleth nodded sympathetically.

“I realize I don’t have much room to complain, but I worry when I see you working so hard.” Lysithea said with a tone of concern.

“You’re worried about me?”

“I am,” Lysithea confessed. “I’ve always known you were a hard worker, Professor...and yet I can’t help but feel responsible when you’re straining yourself on my account.”

“I feel the same way.”

“Huh? What are you talking about?”

“When I see you pushing yourself so hard for your parents." Byleth clarified. "And for me."

"Huh, I never thought about it like that..." Lysithea muttered to herself. “This...must be how Mother and Father feel when they see how much pressure I put on myself.”

“It’s how I felt.”

“When I collapsed during training, you mean?”

Byleth nodded.

"I...didn't realize you felt that way. I'm sorry, Professor," Lysithea apologized. "Still, I think we can both agree that this isn't the sort of behavior that should be imitated."

“I’m just happy you’re safe,” Byleth said, taking Lysithea’s hand.

“That _I’m_ safe?” Lysithea asked, giving him an amused expression. “Professor, _you’re_ the one that collapsed and hit your head!”

“That’s true.” Byleth nodded. “But it’s a good thing we didn’t perform the ritual.”

“Agreed. Anyway, you should get some rest. We’ll try this again when you feel better, OK?”

“That’s fine, but we may have trouble borrowing Thunderbrand a second time.”

Byleth sighed. Although he realized that as long as he had the Divine Pulse, Lysithea was never truly in any danger, he promised himself to proceed more carefully with their research in the future. No matter how rushed they were, Byleth knew one thing for certain...he never wanted to hear Lysithea scream like that again.

* * *

**Verdant Wind**

**Fodlan’s New Dawn**

**Day 12 of the Horsebow Moon**

Lysithea grimaced slightly as she picked at her sautéed jerky moodily. It certainly wasn’t her favorite dish, but she had bigger issues on her mind. It had been several days since Byleth collapsed in the dungeon. During this time, the professor—acting on a ‘premonition’—had conducted a more thorough inspection on their serums to ensure their effectiveness.

Although Lysithea didn’t fully understand what had prompted this most scrutinous test, it ended up being a prudent decision on the professor’s part. They had developed two serums, one to nullify the Crest of Charon and the other to nullify the Crest of Gloucester. Until now, they had both assumed that using these two serums used together would nullify Lyishtea’s Crests.

...But this wasn’t the case.

As it turned out, trying to use these serums on Lysithea’s blood had almost no effect. If they had tried to conduct a blood ritual under these circumstances, the results would have been...deadly to say the least. And until they developed a new serum powerful enough for Lysithea’s blood, their research was at a standstill.

Lysithea had spent two sleepless nights studying the effects of magic-infused plants and working to create something potent enough to nullify her Crests. At first, it seemed as though her efforts had paid off when the poison succeeded in dampening the Crest power contained in her blood sample...however Byleth soon pointed out that the poison was, ironically, _too_ potent. In her efforts to make the serum strong enough, Lysithea had ended up creating a poison so lethal it couldn't safely be used on a living person.

Frustrated at her own failure, Lysithea had snapped at Byleth in a state of agitation. She apologized soon after, of course, and the professor had been sympathetic towards her situation, but that didn't make Lysithea feel any better about herself. She was tired, she was stressed, and she was overworking herself. Byleth was going through the same thing right now, but _he_ could at least control himself. He always had perfect control over his emotions...

Lysithea sighed. Whatever she was going through didn’t excuse her behavior, regardless of how the professor felt about it. More importantly...these were the last days she would spend with him. With all of her friends. Lysithea wanted these final moments to be happy. She didn’t want Byleth to remember her as cranky, irritable, and sleep deprived when she was gone.

...And the other Golden Deer...would they even remember her? Lysithea glanced around the Dining Hall. Despite Claude’s disappearance, the others were as lively and upbeat as ever. Even Shamir seemed more tolerant towards the rambunctious behavior of Catherine, Alois, and Leonie—all three of whom were drinking heavily.

Strangely enough, the only other exception besides Lysithea was Hilda. It wasn't as though she were sullen, downcast, or even upset, but there was something about Hilda's behavior that was...restrained. Her usual peppiness was gone, and she was less talkative than normal. In fact, it seemed as though _Marianne_ was the one carrying their conversation.

Lysithea did a double take upon noticing this. It was as though the two of them had swapped personalities. Hilda was being quiet, modest, and polite while Marianne was the one who was bubbling and leading the discussion. Lysithea had never seen Marianne look so...happy before. In fact, she was practically _gushing._ What could have possibly happened to cause this change in behavior, Lysithea wondered?

It was at this point that Lysithea was starting to realize how distant she had become. She had always been isolated to some degree, hesitant to make friends and rarely spending time with anyone unless it was related to work, but now she felt even more disconnected than ever. The others were all living out their lives and...she had no part in it. Of course, this had always been an inevitable outcome. Lysithea knew—she had always known—that whatever connections she built would never last.

Once again, Lysithea found herself in an internal battle on whether to continue her research efforts or simply give up on finding a cure. She only had one more week at the monastery. It was her last chance to spend time with the others. And here she was throwing it away...gambling it on the very unlikely chance that she and the professor could remove her Crests.

The problem wasn’t that Lysithea was unwilling to give up. The problem was that Lysithea _couldn’t_ give up. Her conscience wouldn’t allow it so long as the professor continued working. It was Byleth’s resolve and Lysithea’s love for him that kept her going at this point. But in reality...she had come to accept her fate a long time ago.

It was an odd feeling. Lysithea longed to see her friends more than anything else and yet they were only a few feet away. A mental barrier separated her from the rest of the world—a world that she had no place in. If anyone could understand how Lysithea felt at the moment, it would have been Marianne...but even she had broken through that barrier and was with the others, celebrating the bright future that they had ahead of them.

What Lysithea wouldn’t give to be a part of the group right now. To partake in idle gossip and discuss boy troubles with Hilda and Marianne like a normal woman, to join the knights in their merriment—even if she hated the taste of alcohol—or enjoy a pastime or hobby with Ignatz and Flayn. Even stuffing her face with Raphael or having a political debate with Lorenz sounded inviting...actually, where was Raphael?

“Hey, Lysithea!” Raphael boomed cheerfully, taking his seat next to her.

“Gah! R-Raphael, I didn’t see you!” Lysithea exclaimed, wide-eyed.

“I noticed you sitting here all alone, so I thought I’d check on you.”

“That’s sweet of you, but there’s nothing to worry about,” Lysithea said, politely dismissing him.

“Are you sure?” Raphael frowned. “I thought I heard you shouting when I passed by the professor’s room earlier. Did the two of you get into a fight?”

“No, nothing like that,” Lysithea assured him, blushing slightly. “We’ve just been straining ourselves lately and...I snapped.”

"Ah, I get it," Raphael nodded. "The professor's gonna be the new king soon. I bet he's come to you to help teach him all this noble stuff, right?"

“Uh, yes...” Lysithea said slowly. “And if anyone else asks, _that’s_ what we’ve been doing.”

“It’s awfully nice of you to look after the professor like that, but aren’t you two working yourselves too hard?”

“I won’t argue with that, but with the coronation ceremony approaching, we haven’t much choice.”

“Hm, I guess you’re right. Still, I’m happy to help out if you ever need a hand.”

"I appreciate the gesture, Raphael. But really, you do enough as it is," Lysithea insisted, feeling a bit guilty, considering that Raphael was still handling all of her chores.

“Ah, don’t worry about that,” Raphael chuckled. “Friends are there when you need it the most, right?”

“Well...I hope I can live up to my end of that one day,” Lysithea said with a weak smile.

“And remember, I’m always here if you need any help.”

“Thank you—but to be honest, it’s the professor who needs help right now.” Lysithea sighed. “He’s working even harder than I am, if you can imagine.”

“That sounds rough...” Raphael frowned. “Have you tried getting him to take a break.”

“The professor can be...stubborn sometimes. At this point you’d be better off dragging him from his desk than just asking him to stop.”

"No problem!" Raphael laughed. "I'll get him out of there in no time!"

“Raphael, that was just an expression,” Lysithea giggled.

“Oh, I see...well if you change your mind, my muscles are more than capable of doing the job, ” Raphael offered, smiling at his biceps, which caused Lysithea to giggle even more.

“Raphael that’s—"

“Hey, Lysithea! There ya are,” Cyril said, approaching the table.

“Oh hello, Cyril,” Lysithea replied, turning to face him. “Did you have a letter from my parents?”

“Nah, nothing like that.” Cyril said, shaking his head. “The professor just wanted me to let ya know that he learned something real important. He wants to see you right away.”

“I see...well thanks or telling me, Cyril,” Lysithea said, rising from her seat as Cyril departed.

“Aww, you’re leaving already?” Raphael pouted.

“If the professor sent for me, it must be urgent.” Lysithea said apologetically.

“Oh, I get it. Lots of important stuff he needs help with,” Raphael nodded sadly. “I guess you’re gonna be really busy then, huh? Still, you'll at least join us for the big celebration after the coronation, right? It wouldn’t be the same if you weren’t there.”

“...Of course. I couldn’t leave without seeing you and the others one last time.” Lysithea said, offering Raphael a kind but sad smile.

“’One last time?’" Raphael repeated in confusion. "...But wait, we can still see each other after we go home, ri—”

“I should get going. I’ll see you later, Raphael.” Lysithea said, her back turned as she left Raphael in total bewilderment.

* * *

**Verdant Wind**

**Fodlan’s New Dawn**

**Day 16 of the Horsebow Moon**

“We’ve arrived, Professor,” Lysithea announced as the two made their way towards a clearing within the Sealed Forest.

Byleth scowled as his gaze fell upon a familiar ruined structure. This was where Monica—Kronya had lured him into a trap. Solon used this...shrine...altar...location as conduit for his forbidden spell, forcing Sothis to give up her identity and merge with Byleth to save them both. The place held bitter memories for him, but if Lysithea was right, then it was possible that these ruins would now be their salvation.

“Do you mind drawing the ritual circle again?” Byleth requested.

“’Again’?” Lysithea asked, frowning in confusion. 

Ah...right. He had used the Divine Pulse last time. As far as she knew, this would be their first blood ritual attempt.

“...I misspoke,” Byleth said dismissively.

“Hmm...well that won’t be necessary here, Professor,” Lysithea said, pointing to the center of the ritual site. “This place has a strong magical connection. The circular area in the middle there should suit our needs.”

“Do you think this will work?” Byleth asked.

“In all honesty...if you had asked me that question earlier, I would have likely said we had zero chance of success,” Lysithea admitted as she took her place inside the circular area.

“But now?”

“Now, well...I...don’t want to get my hopes up but...” Lysithea paused, glancing to the side bashfully. “I have to admit, I’m rather impressed with how much we’ve progressed in so little time. Even the research we’ve discovered in Shambhala doesn’t fully account for the progress we’ve made.”

“You worked hard,” Byleth said with a warm smile.

“Always the modest one, aren’t you?” Lysithea said sweetly, returning his smile. “But don’t deflect the praise onto me, you’re the one who’s done most of the work.”

Lysithea gave him an admiring look. Despite her concerns and feelings of guilt when it came to Byleth’s intense work ethic, she was proud of him for all he had accomplished. She didn’t know how he pulled it off, but despite her best efforts to keep up with him, the professor always seemed to find a way to outpace her.

But although Byleth was pushing himself to his limits for Lysithea’s sake, there was no denying that Sothis’ power had contributed significantly to the amount of headway they were making. It was Byleth’s connection to Sothis that gave him such a knack with white magic and, by extension, blood magic. It was the Crest of Flames that gave him unyielding stamina and allowed him to work beyond what was natural. And then, of course, there was the Divine Pulse...

Blood magic was complicated and performing blood experiments was very dangerous. Even the most accomplished Crest Scholar would have needed to take many precautions when conducting experiments on a living person. One misstep could cost the subject their life. It was thanks to the Divine Pulse that Byleth was able to experiment freely and cut months—if not years—worth of preliminary tests that would have otherwise been necessary.

“I'm aware that this might not work in the end,” Lysithea added cautiously. “...There’s always the possibility that my Crests simply can’t be removed. But still—I...”

“Are you OK?” Byleth asked with a small frown.

“What I’m trying to say is...thank you, Professor. For not giving up on me, I mean,” Lysithea added. “Are you ready to begin?”

“I’m ready,” Byleth confirmed, subconsciously reaching into his pocket where he kept his mother’s ring.

“Let’s get started!”

Byleth nodded and pulled out a single syringe. Lysithea winced slightly as Byleth rolled up her sleeve and injected the serum into her arm. The two of them had managed to create a poison that was strong enough to nullify both of Lysithea’s Crests without being lethal, but this new serum was still notably stronger and more painful than their previous doses.

“Nnnggg...one moment...” Lysithea muttered when Byleth withdrew his dagger.

Not wanting to get her clothes bloody, Lysithea removed the clasps on her sleeves, detaching them from the rest of her outfit and allowed them to fall to the ground. And although he maintained his stoic demeanor, Byleth's face reddened slightly as Lysithea exposed her shoulders. He proceeded as usual, using white magic to numb the pain before making two small incisions, one on each arm.

Just like last time, Byleth pulled out a collection of notes and incantations and quickly reviewed the steps before reciting the spell for the first ritual. The circle surrounding Lysithea began to glow purple and, with each word Byleth said, more and more runic symbols would appear inside the circle. After a while, the four-pillared corners of the ritual site began to glow crimson, acting as a conduit for Lysithea’s blood in place of the Heroes Relics.

Ever since their first ritual attempt in the dungeon, Catherine had been taking greater care not to let Thunderbrand out of her sight, even if it meant sleeping with it. Not even Byleth was bold enough to try to sneak up on Catherine in the dead of night, especially since Shamir often slept in the barracks with her. Instead, Lysithea came up with the idea to use this place as their new conduit. Based on Solon’s use of it, it was clear that this structure had a deep connection with the sorts of magic his people used.

“Agh!” Lysithea grunted as red energy began to manifest from her blood and fly towards the four corners of the ritual site.

“Lysithea—”

“I’m fine,” Lysithea interrupted. “Just...k-keep going. I think it’s working.”

Byleth nodded. It was clear that the serum was keeping Lysithea’s Crests under control this time. Lysithea had developed this new serum herself, but it was Byleth’s idea to compare her blood sample to a sample of mixed blood containing the Crests of Charon and Gloucester. By doing so, the two were able to gain a much deeper understanding of Lysithea’s Crest structure and began forming theories on how Those Who Slither in the Dark managed to implant both of them.

Neither of their theories were concrete, but the current hypothesis was that, in order to achieve the impossible and implant two Crests into a single person, Those Who Slither in the Dark created a modified blood containing two Crests that were intertwined into one and implanted this conjoined “Crest” into Lysithea’s body.

It was impossible to determine whether this was truly the case or not, but by operating under this assumption, the two of them had managed to create a working serum and were able to make significant improvements in their blood magic techniques. If it _were_ possible to remove Lysithea’s Crests at all, then surely this ritual would be the answer.

After several minutes had passed, Byleth completed his incantation and finished the first ritual. The circle was complete, and Lysithea’s Crests were now linked to the ritual site.

“We...did it,” Lysithea sighed with relief. “We’ve completed the first ritual.”

Byleth nodded, pleased to see how much more smoothly this went compared to their first attempt. However, they were only just getting started. There were three more rituals to perform, any of which could fail if done incorrectly and one of which would take several hours of concentration to complete.

“Brace yourself,” Byleth warned her. “This may be painful, and we will be stuck here for a while.”

Lysithea winced slightly, having very little tolerance for pain, but nodded as well, resolved to see this through until the very end. Ordinarily, in a situation like this, a team of specialized mages would work together and take turns performing parts of the ritual...but unfortunately Byleth was on his own and Lysithea couldn’t perform blood magic on herself. The best she could do was attempt to use white magic on Byleth to restore his stamina.

The process was long and agonizing, but Lysithea did her best to bear through it without showing any signs of pain, knowing that Byleth needed to prioritize the success of the ritual over her own comfort. Besides, it had been _her_ choice to keep her Crests a secret. If Byleth had his way, someone like Marianne or Lorenz would be assisting them. Perhaps using white magic to numb the pain while Byleth conducted the ritual.

Nearly an hour later, the second ritual was finally complete. It took longer than expected, but that was likely because Lysithea had so much Crest power. Byleth had condensed this power and concentrated it towards the two places where he had made an incision. This was all done in preparation for the third ritual...the extraction. Byleth would want to extract the Crest power while removing as little of Lysithea’s blood as possible.

“That’s...two down...” Lysithea grunted.

“This next step will be the longest.” Byleth pointed out.

“Don’t worry, I have you covered.” Lysithea said, readying her magic.

“But your Crests—”

“As long as I don’t use them, my magic should be perfectly stable,” Lysithea reasoned.

Byleth gave a reluctant nod and began the next incantation. Reciting the incantation didn’t take too long—only twenty to thirty minutes—but the ritual itself was much longer and required all of Byleth’s concentration. The purpose of this third ritual was to steadily and carefully draw out energy with as little blood as possible and channel the Crest power to the four corners of the ritual site.

This process went on for what seemed like an eternity with minutes feeling like hours. The ritual was intensive for Byleth and painful for Lysithea, not to mention physically tiring since both of them were required to stand up for the entire ordeal.

After a mere fifty minutes of this, Byleth was sweating both from effort and concentration, while Lysithea was panting as she relentlessly pushed herself to use as much magic as possible to prevent the professor from exhausting himself.

“Save your strength,” Byleth said, in a calm voice despite how fatigued he was.

“This is too much to do on your own, let me help,” Lysithea insisted.

“You’re overdoing it. If you pass out from blood loss or exhaustion, this could turn into a serious issue.” Byleth warned her.

“And if _you_ pass out from straining yourself, you’ll be putting _both_ of us at risk," Lysithea countered.

“...You’ve got a point,” Byleth conceded after a short pause. “But don’t push yourself too hard.”

“I’m perfectly capable of recognizing my own limits, Professor.”

“No, you’re not.”

Lysithea blinked, a little taken about by Byleth's blunt honesty...but knew she couldn't argue against this.

“Hmph. Well clearly I’m not the only one.” Lysithea said, regaining her swagger. “Someone needs to keep you from wearing yourself out.”

“That’s true.”

“So, we’ll just have to regulate each other then. Fair?”

“Fair.” Byleth nodded, smiling in spite of himself.

More time passed. Minutes became hours and ritual went on and on, even as the sun set and night fell upon them. Lysithea knew going in that this ordeal was going to be long, uncomfortable, and painful, but she hadn’t fully braced herself for just how trying it would be. She had adapted to the pain after all this time, however...

“P-Professor? Are we almost done?” Lysithea asked hesitantly.

“We’re getting closer, but it will still take some time,” Byleth said. “Until then, try to rest.”

Lysithea frowned. She had a feeling he would say that, which was why she avoided asking that question up until now. But...the professor was right. At the moment, the real struggle was trying to remain upright and conscious after hours of standing and continuous blood loss. Lysithea tried to keep herself focused with the idea of her Crests being removed. How happy she would be...and how happy her parents would be, knowing she would survive.

“One ritual left. We’re nearly finished,” Byleth said after roughly forty minutes had passed.

Lysithea nodded weakly. With the third ritual complete, there was just one step left. Byleth began reciting the only remaining incantation, invoking the fourth and final blood ritual, which would stabilize Lysithea’s blood and kick start the regeneration process to help regain her lost blood.

This fourth ritual was much shorter than the previous one, lasting only a few minutes until Byleth finished chanting the spell. With the incantation complete, the professor let out a sigh of relief as the ritual circle stopped glowing, as did the four corners.

“We're done,” Byleth said quietly.

With their work finally complete, Lysithea allowed herself to collapse, falling to her hands and knees and breathing heavily while Byleth was doubled over and panting equally as hard.

“T-Thank you...” Lysithea mumbled breathlessly as Byleth knelt beside her, healing her wounds, and numbing the pain.

“Lysithea, your Crests...”

A trace of anxiety could be heard in Byleth’s usually toneless voice. Lysithea nodded grimly feeling a mixture of excitement, worry and dread as she attempted to manifest her Major Crest of Gloucester. A magical glyph appeared in the palm of her hand, just like normal, but...the Crest of Gloucester was missing from the center.

“My Crest—it...it can’t be!” Lysithea exclaimed, wide-eyed.

Byleth smiled as Lysithea next attempted to manifest her Minor Crest of Charon. Once again, a magical glyph appeared, but the Crest of Charon was nowhere to be seen.

“T-They...they’re gone!” Lysithea stuttered excitedly, giving a shaky laugh as she repeatedly tried and failed to manifest one of her Crests. “...You...I...we did it. I can’t believe—oh, Professor!”

Lysithea attempted to hug Byleth, trying to wrap her arms around his neck. But, in her fatigued state, Lysithea's arms failed her, and she instead merely collapsed against him.

“It’s over now,” Byleth said softly, keeping her steady

The two stayed this way for some time, as Lysithea leaned against Byleth, lacking the strength to properly embrace him. Byleth simply gave a soft smile and gently stroked her hair. They were both too exhausted to speak and yet Byleth found his mind wandering to the ring he kept in his pocket. Byleth knew little of romance, but he had planned to propose to Lysithea the moment her Crests were removed...wanting to make this moment perfect.

“Lysithea?” Byleth whispered, glancing down at her.

Lysithea didn’t respond, but simply continued to lean against him, breathing heavily.

“Lysithea,” Byleth repeated.

No response. Her breathing was still heavy, but she wasn’t panting. It was more like...she was snoring. Byleth frowned and pulled Lysithea back. She was indeed sleeping, a small, content smile on her face as she rested against him peacefully.

Byleth sighed but smiled as well. The procedure had taken far more out of them than he had expected, and it seemed that, in Lysithea’s moment of excitement and weariness, she had passed out in his arms. Byleth had really wanted to propose to her on the spot but...he supposed the engagement could wait a little longer.

* * *

When Lysithea finally regained consciousness, she found herself lying in one of the infirmary beds. Judging by the very dim light shining through the windows, she had likely awoken just before sunrise. Lysithea quickly noticed that she was not alone. Sitting at her bedside, fast asleep in the nearby chair, was Byleth.

The fact that Byleth was waiting at Lysithea’s bedside, rather than sleeping in the unoccupied bed next to her, could only mean he had been waiting for her to wake up. Lysithea smiled. Even if the professor couldn’t show it very well, it was clear that he was eager to see her. And he was excited because...because...because...

_My Crests!_

Lysithea leapt out of bed and immediately tried to manifest her Crest of Gloucester once more. Nothing. There was nothing there. It was gone. _Her Crests were gone!_ At this point, Lysithea wanted nothing more than to wake up the professor and share in her excitement—her happiness—but decided against it. Byleth had worked so hard...he deserved his rest.

...Besides, with her Crests gone, there would be endless opportunities to celebrate. They didn’t need to work to find a cure anymore, she didn’t need to rush through her life. No more sleepless nights studying. No more straining their bodies to the point of collapse. No more living in fear of an early death. She was...free!

And it was all thanks to him. To her professor, the man who refused to give up on her...who never stopped fighting for her future. It took all of Lysithea’s willpower to restrain herself from lunging at Byleth and showering him with her affection—regardless of who heard or saw. Even if she had more time, she wanted to enjoy this moment _now_ , but the only people who knew of her condition were herself and the professor.

...And her parents! She needed to inform them about this right away! Lysithea glanced around anxiously, looking for a spare sheet of paper and quill she could use. Oh, but what would she even write?

_Dear Mother and Father,_

_I am hoping you are well. After Nemesis’ recent raids in the Hrym Territory, I’m sure your hands are filled with—_

No, no, that was a terrible start. Her parents didn’t want to read pleasantries and formalities. The first thing they would want to read was that her Crests were removed! That her body would no longer suffer from their strain. That she...was going to live.

_Dear Mother and Father,_

_I know this is sudden, but I have exciting news! For the last few months, my professor and I have been trying to find a way to remove my Crests and, after all this time, I think we have succeeded!_

Lysithea paused for a moment, frowning.

_I ‘think’ we have succeeded?_

There was no doubt about it, they _had_ succeeded...right? Just to be sure, Lysithea attempted to manifest her Crests for the umpteenth time...and once again they failed to appear. They were gone. They were definitely gone. She didn’t have anything to worry about...

...So why did she feel so uneasy?

Lysithea glanced to the doorway. Just across the hall was Hanneman’s office, as well as his Crest Analyzer. ...But that was unnecessary. She had proven—repeatedly—that she no longer bore her Crests. They had been removed. Forever. She had nothing to worry about. Everything was fine.

Although...there was no harm in checking, was there? It wasn’t as though the Crest Analyzer would somehow implant Lysithea’s Crest’s back inside her. Besides, Hanneman was sure to have stocked plenty of spare parchment and quills for his own research notes. She could use that to write a letter to her parents while she waited for the professor to wake up.

Doing her best to remain silent, Lysithea tiptoed to the door as stealthily as she could, exiting the infirmary and heading into Hanneman’s office. Her eyes rested on the Crest Analyzer for a brief moment, but she resisted the temptation for now and began searching Hanneman’s desk. There was a notable lack of Crest documents—likely because Seteth or Byleth had raided this room before her—but eventually Lysithea managed to find some good parchment and a quill.

Finding ink was a bit trickier. Whoever had previously searched this room hadn’t given much regard to Hanneman’s possessions and had knocked over many of his ink bottles. After a few minutes of searching, Lysithea did manage to find a slightly cracked, half-full bottle that was in good enough condition to use. With these supplies in hand, Lysithea made her back out when the Crest Analyzer caught her eye once again, glowing tantalizingly.

...There was no denying it. Lysithea _was_ scared. She knew she had no reason to be, but nevertheless the idea of allowing the analyzer to verify her Crest status terrified her. But...there was no sense in delaying the inevitable. She had to check at some point or else she’d die of curiosity. Lysithea let out a shaky breath and placed her hand over the device.

The Crest Analyzer glowed purple for a moment, scanning her hand. At first there was no reaction. The Crest Analyzer simply concluded its scan and gave no result. Lysithea let out a tense sigh as her worst fears were alleviated, however a moment later the Crest Analyzer glowed once again and projected two shapes before her eyes.

...The Crest of Gloucester and the Crest of Charon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I gotta say, I'm starting to actually appreciate the fact that the canon material doesn't cover the method of curing Lysithea's Crests. I don't want this to be incredibly simple and unsatisfying like Hapi's "cure", but I confess I worry that what I have written down may be too convoluted for the reader to follow. Please share your thoughts!


	24. Long Full Lives (Verdant Wind: 9/17)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After dealing with a series of hardships and struggles, Byleth and Lysithea confront their final obstacle...the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I won't mark this fiction as complete until I update all the earlier stuff, but make no mistake, this is the final chapter. I'm sure you've all completed Three Houses and more or less know what to expect...but I admit, romance is really not my strong suit. Still, this is what you guys wanted, and while I don't know how to improve on the perfection of Lysithea's S Support, I hope you guys are at least satisfied with the result.

**Verdant Wind**

**Fodlan’s New Dawn**

**Day 17 of the Horsebow Moon**

“I don’t understand...” Byleth murmured in confusion as the Crest Analyzer scanned Lysithea's hand and displayed her Crests once again.

“I told you, Professor. My Crests...I...they still reside within me,” Lysithea sighed softly.

“That can’t be true.” Byleth frowned. “They were gone last night.”

“I thought they were,” Lysithea mumbled. “But clearly that’s not the case. We...couldn’t remove them.”

“But we _did_ remove them,” Byleth insisted stubbornly. “You couldn’t display them before.”

“No, I couldn’t but...I think I now understand why that is." Lysithea said. "You see, my Crests never _truly_ disappeared, they only—"

“That can’t be it,” Byleth interrupted, a rare trace of panic in his voice. “Maybe I made a mistake during the ritual. We can try—"

“Will you just listen to me?” Lysithea snapped, trying to keep an even tone.

Byleth went quiet and Lysithea sighed again before continuing.

“During the ritual, you were able to draw out all of the Crest power from my body. My blood no longer bears a Crest.” Lysithea explained patiently. “Because of this, I am unable to manifest my Crests or wield their power. But they...my Crests _can’t_ truly be removed. They’re...part of who I am, Professor.”

“What are you saying?” Byleth asked slowly.

“My blood currently doesn’t possess a Crest...but in time, my body will create new Crest-bearing blood. I don’t know how long that will take, but when it happens, I will be burdened with their strain once again...”

“...I see.” Byleth murmured softly, sitting into a nearby chair and staring into his lap. 

He looked so...lost. Lost, scared and confused. Seeing the professor in such a vulnerable state was heartbreaking. Lysithea knew Byleth well enough to understand that he was the sort of person who was determined to find an answer to every problem, and she was sure that at this moment he was desperately wracking his brain to find another solution for her predicament.

But...there was no solution this time. And Byleth, who struggled to accept this, was looking more and more defeated by the second. The last time Lysithea had seen Byleth look this miserable was when his father had died. And, despite her best efforts, she couldn’t help but feel responsible...that _she_ was the cause of this pain.

“I’m so sorry, Professor...” Lysithea whispered shakily, tears welling in her eyes.

Byleth quickly composed himself and placed a comforting hand on Lysithea’s shoulder, not wanting her to see him in such a broken state.

“It’s not too late. We can still find a way,” Byleth reassured her.

This, however, did not have the comforting effect that Byleth had hoped for. In fact, Lysithea was a little horrified to hear him say this. ...It was over. Did he not realize that? They had tried their hardest, but removing her Crests simply couldn’t be done. Was the professor in denial of their situation?

“Professor...it _is_ too late,” Lysithea said softly.

“There’s still time,” Byleth insisted.

“The coronation is in three days.” Lysithea reminded him. “How do you plan to cure me by then?”

Byleth hesitated and placed a hand to his chin, thinking it over for a moment before responding.

“Shambhala. If we excavate the city, we’re sure to find more of their Crest research.”

“There’s not enough time,” Lysithea gently reasoned with him. “It would take days just to reach Shambhala. You can’t afford to miss your own coronation.”

“I’ll abdicate the throne.”

“You can’t be serious!”

“That’s what Claude did,” Byleth said, for once baring his emotions on full display. 

Lysithea could distinctly hear the seething resentment towards Claude in the professor’s voice.

“But _you_ can’t. The people need you, Professor.”

“No, they don’t. I’ll leave Fodlan to someone capable, with more experience. Maybe Seteth or Lorenz. And then we can—”

“BYLETH!”

Byleth immediately went silent, a bit startled by Lysithea's outburst. Nobody had ever shouted his name at him before...not even Jeralt.

“Enough is enough,” Lysithea said in a gentle, yet stern tone. 

And although she had just yelled at him, the look she was giving Byleth was not one of anger, but genuine concern.

“Lysithea...”

"Professor, I appreciate all you've done. It's people like you who've made my short life worth living. I really mean that," Lysithea said softly, once again fighting back tears. “But you can’t turn your back on the world just for one student.”

“...But my students _are_ my world,” Byleth murmured. “Especially you.”

Lysithea’s eyes welled up and she turned away. She couldn’t take it. She couldn’t bear to face him anymore. This was the exact reason why she didn’t want to make friends when she first joined the academy, why she didn’t want to be close to anyone. In the end, it was those who were closest to her that would suffer the most when she was gone.

“I’m sorry, Professor. But it’s over.” Lysithea muttered, a tone of finality in her voice. “...I should get going. I need to pack my things.”

Without another word, Lysithea made her way to the corridor outside Hanneman’s office and out of sight. Byleth could hear her footsteps quicken as Lysithea broke into a sprint the moment she turned the corner.

* * *

_Sitri Eisner_

_1139 – 1159_

_Jeralt Eisner_

_?? – 1180_

_Resting in the warm embrace of cherished memories._

It had been several hours since Lysithea revealed the results of Hanneman’s Crest Analyzer. The sun was beginning to set as Byleth placed a bouquet of lilies on his parent’s grave. The choice of flower wasn't a coincidence, as these were originally meant to be given to Lysithea after he proposed to her but...given recent events, it seemed they would no longer be serving this purpose.

Between the war and trying to find a cure for Lysithea, Byleth hadn’t had many opportunities to visit the cemetery as of late. And soon his visits would become even more limited, for once the coronation ceremony was completed, Byleth was to make his way to Derdriu and take residence in the now vacant Castle Riegan. Seteth would accompany him for a short time and together they would set up the foundation for the United Kingdom of Fodlan.

Byleth sighed. The last time he had come to pay his respects was right before their battle with Nemesis. It was here that he swore he would find a cure. That he would marry Lysithea, pass on his mother's ring, and make Jeralt proud. But...he had failed Jeralt just as he failed Lysithea. In time...she would likely have a grave here too. And Byleth would be visiting her alongside his parents.

The very thought made Byleth sick to his stomach. He was so...angry. At everything. He hated Solon's people, those who shortened Lysithea's life and took Jeralt from him. He felt betrayed by Claude, whose decision cost Byleth his opportunity to find a cure. And more than anything, Byleth was frustrated with himself...for his resignation. For sitting here, wallowing in self-pity, instead of spending his remaining time looking for another solution.

Now more than ever, Byleth wished he could speak to Jeralt. Growing up, he had always been a stubborn and independent child, never asking for help and rarely turning to Jeralt for guidance...but this was the one time Byleth truly wished he could lean on his father for support. Jeralt would know what to say. He would know better than anyone what Byleth was going through. What it was like to lose a loved one...

_Sitri Eisner_

_1139 – 1159_

20 years old. His mother would have been just a little younger than Lysithea when she died. Byleth was now starting to understand just what sort of torment Jeralt had been dealing with all his life, and couldn't help but wonder if he would end up the same way. Aloof, always distant, constantly trying to drink away the pain...was that the sort of person Fodlan’s new ruler was going to be?

“Professor?”

Byleth glanced over his shoulder. It was Leonie.

“Why are you here?” Byleth asked, unaware how rude this sounded.

“Oh, I just came to pay Jeralt a visit," Leonie replied. "Figured I wouldn't get too many chances once we left the monastery. I guess you were thinking the same thing, huh?"

Byleth didn’t respond and simply turned back to the grave.

“Um...I’m not interrupting, am I?” Leonie asked hesitantly. “I can come back later if you need a moment alone with Captain Jeralt.”

“.........You can stay.” Byleth said after a very extended pause.

At the moment, Byleth was having a hard time deciding whether he wanted to be alone or not. It was the same way he had felt when Jeralt died. Whenever Byleth was by himself, he longed to be in the company of his students, to share his grief with them. But whenever he was with people, Byleth felt obligated to conceal his true feelings. 

_“That's part of a leader's job. You can't give in to despair.”_

That was what Claude had once told him back at the academy. And no matter how much Byleth resented him right now, he understood this to be true. It was ironic considering that, since joining the academy, Byleth had strived to better express himself...and yet now he was being forced to conceal his emotions. For the sake of his students. For Fodlan.

Leonie smiled as she sat beside Byleth and placed an unopened beer bottle on Jeralt’s grave, alongside Byleth’s flower offering.

“Jeralt’s favorite brand,” Byleth noted, while Leonie pulled out a second beer bottle and uncorked it.

“Yeah, I thought he might appreciate it,” Leonie laughed, clinking her bottle with Jeralt’s and taking the first swig.

Byleth forced himself to smile but remained quiet.

“Thanks for inviting me,” Leonie said. “To be honest, I’ve been kind of worried about you.”

“There’s no need to worry.”

"Always hiding your troubles behind that stoic expression...you really are just like Captain Jeralt," Leonie sighed. “You’ve become pretty distant lately, but I guess you just have a lot on your mind with the whole coronation coming up, huh?”

“I do,” Byleth admitted.

“It...must be hard, having so much responsibility thrusted on you at your age,” Leonie added with a small frown.

Byleth simply nodded. His coronation was far from the only issue currently plaguing his mind, but it was nice to know that someone understood the sort of the pressure he was under. ...Not that he could admit to it.

"I realize it's not the same as Captain Jeralt, but I hope you know that you can come to me or Alois...for anything," Leonie said sympathetically. "If you ever need help or just want to talk, we're here for you."

Byleth nodded again, but didn't say anything. Leonie let out a small sigh and glanced back to Jeralt's grave. She hadn't really expected the professor to open up or anything. He really _was_ just like the captain in that regard. Just when Leonie was about to give up on prying any information from her professor, however, Byleth spoke.

“I have a question about my father.”

“Huh? Oh yeah? What is it?” Leonie asked, her eyebrows raised.

“When you were with Jeralt...did he ever mention my mother?”

"Your mother? No...I don't think he did." Leonie frowned. "Um, he talked about you though. A lot actually. Whenever we were training, Captain Jeralt would always compare me to his prodigal son...it got a bit annoying, to be honest."

“Sorry.”

“No need for apologies. But now that you mention it, I don’t think you’ve ever talked about your mother either,” Leonie noted. “What was she like?”

Byleth paused for a moment. Until now, he had never really thought about the sort of person his mother had been.

"My mother was frail, but very smart. She enjoyed spending most of her time in the library, reading books," Byleth recited, using Jeralt's diary entries as a reference. "She had trouble with her emotions, but was always kind to others and...she had a very beautiful smile. Jeralt used to mentor her before they got married. She also loved flow—"

Byleth paused, glancing at the bouquet of lilies he had left on Jeralt and Sitri’s grave. Speaking of his mother only further reminded him of Lysithea...and his heart ached.

“She sounds like an amazing woman,” Leonie said kindly.

“She was.”

“Were the two of you close?”

“No. She died shortly after I was born.”

“Oh, I’m...sorry to hear that,” Leonie said awkwardly.

“It’s fine,” Byleth muttered.

“Your mother...have you been thinking about her lately?” Leonie asked tentatively.

“I have.”

Byleth didn’t elaborate on this any further and Leonie didn’t press the subject, respecting his privacy. 

Having described his mother out loud, Byleth couldn't help but draw parallels between her situation and Lysithea's. He had never really thought of it, but was it possible that it was his mother's fragile state that led to her dying during childbirth? Perhaps her fragility meant that she had _always_ been fated to die an early death...

Sitri once bore the same Crest Stone that Byleth did. She was a 'failure' and therefore couldn't house Sothis' conscience, but was that the _only_ consequence of her incompatibility? Was it possible that his mother had been frail because she couldn't handle the power of the Crest Stone? The power of a god? Perhaps she, like Lysithea and Edelgard, had been condemned to a shortened life _because_ of her Crest?

_"If not for Crests, the world might've been a more peaceful place."_

Byleth bared his teeth, thinking back to what Lysithea had said. She was right...and so was Edelgard. Even before they were ingrained in Fodlan's noble system, Crests had brought nothing but suffering and heartache into the world.

Nemesis had slaughtered the people of Zanado so that his allies might bear their Crests. It was because of Crests that Lysithea and Edelgard had lost their families. It was because of Crests that Lysithea, Edelgard, and maybe his own mother had lost their futures. It was because of Crests...that Byleth now understood why he had to be Fodlan's ruler. So that he could put a stop to their influence...so that nobody else had to suffer.

It was the only way Byleth could atone for his failure to save her...the woman he loved.

“Huh. That’s weird,” Leonie muttered, frowning as she inspected the tombstone.

“What’s weird?” Byleth asked.

“Jeralt doesn’t have a year of birth listed,” Leonie pointed out. “Doesn't _anybody_ know his age?”

“He never told me.”

“Still, you would think there would be records on that sort of thing.”

“If there was, the Church would have them,” Byleth said.

“Good point. Hm, how old do you think he was?”

“Over one hundred.” Byleth responded dryly.

“Hahaha! Good one, Professor,” Leonie laughed. “Though he was probably closer in age to your mother, don't you think?”

Byleth didn’t reciprocate her laughter. He was being completely serious. Whereas Lysithea, Edelgard, and his mother had their lives cut short due to their Crests, Jeralt’s lifespan had been extended instead. The irony that it was a Crest that saved Jeralt wasn’t lost on him. It was also because of Jeralt's extended lifespan that he had been able to meet Sitri, who would bear his child. Because of this, Byleth couldn’t bring himself to hate Rhea.

...But he still resented her. Not just for her experiments or her attempt to take away his identity in order to revive Sothis. No, Byleth resented Rhea because, during all her years in power, she had done nothing to stop the influence of Crests. Instead, she had been content to allow the Crests to spread like a cancer until they were so deeply entrenched that removing them could destroy Fodlan.

In Edelgard's attempt to abolish the influence of Crests, she had brought instability and chaos to the land. But this war wouldn't have been necessary if the Church had done something sooner. After all these years, why hadn't there been any attempts to find a cure for Crests? If Rhea could _bestow_ Crests onto others, then surely she knew the secret to—

“...Rhea.” Byleth whispered after a small pause.

After all this time, Byleth had completely forgotten his plan to interrogate Rhea for information on Crests and their possible removal.

“Huh—hey where are you going?” Leonie asked as Byleth quickly rose to his feet.

“I need to see Rhea,” Byleth said shortly.

“The Archbishop? But she’s not—h-hey! Professor! Get back here!” Leonie shouted, but Byleth was already sprinting towards the monastery

He had to see her...while there was still time.

* * *

“Urgh...” Rhea gasped, clutching her chest.

“Rhea!” Seteth exclaimed as Flayn soothed her pain with white magic.

“Are...you feeling well, Rhea?” Flayn asked timidly.

Rhea simply shook her head. The time she spent in confinement along with the damage she sustained at Shambhala had taken a significant toll on her health and the last few weeks had not been kind to her. Rhea’s face was sunken, her hair disheveled, and her skin was paler than ever. Even simple tasks such as eating and speaking had become a struggle for her.

“There isn’t much time left,” Flayn said with a small frown. “Have you been in touch with the others yet, Brother?”

“I...am afraid not,” Seteth admitted with a small sigh. “With a new age dawning on Fodlan, I have been preoccupied with my duties.”

“But surely contacting them is of equal importance,” Flayn insisted. “They would wish to pay their respects, would they not?”

‘They’, of course, was a reference to the other children of the goddess, Macuil and Indech.

“To be honest, I highly doubt it,” Seteth said. “If they were unwilling to aid us in saving Rhea’s life, I can hardly imagine they would come to mourn her death.”

Rhea lowered her head despondently and didn’t say a word.

“But they are family! I am certain that—” Flayn started.

“Someone is coming,” Seteth interrupted.

“I’m sorry, but nobody is permitted to be here,” One of the knights guarding Rhea's door said.

“Let me in,” A familiar voice responded.

“But the Archbishop is—" Another knight began but was quickly interrupted when Seteth burst out of Rhea’s room and joined in.

“What is the meaning of this? I thought I made it clear that—oh...it is you, Professor,” Seteth said, faltering slightly as Byleth approached. “Forgive me, but now is not a good time. Can this wait?”

“I need to see Rhea,” Byleth said.

“I'm afraid I cannot allow it.” Seteth said firmly. “In her current condition, the Archbishop is in no state to entertain guests.”

“You’re here,” Byleth rebutted.

“That is—I am assisting Flayn while she attends to Rhea,” Seteth said defensively.

“I need to see her,” Byleth repeated. “That’s an order.”

“I...” Seteth paused, unsure how to respond.

“Please, Professor, Rhea is in dire need of rest!” Flayn insisted. “I implore you to leave her be!”

“Let him in,” Rhea said in a voice that was barely more than a whisper.

“Are...are you sure, Rhea?” Seteth asked with a tone of concern.

Rhea nodded quietly and Seteth sighed before stepping aside and allowing Byleth entry.

“We need to speak alone,” Byleth said.

“But she requires assistance!” Flayn protested.

“I will be fine, Flayn...” Rhea in the same strained whisper. “There is no need to concern yourself with my wellbeing.”

“Very well...” Seteth said reluctantly. “But please, try to keep your visit brief.”

Byleth nodded and Seteth exited the room, beckoning for Flayn and the knights to follow him before heading down the stairs. Once they all left, Byleth turned to Rhea once again.

“It is good to see you, sweet child,” Rhea said softly. “How may I—”

Rhea paused and began coughing furiously. This lasted for some time until Byleth took Flayn’s place as Rhea’s healer and alleviated her condition with white magic.

“Are you OK?” Byleth asked, a small irrational part of him worried that Rhea would die at any second.

“...I don’t have long,” Rhea wheezed. “My flame will soon be extinguished. I am sure you still wish to know more about your past. This...will likely be our last chance to speak. So please...ask your questions, Professor.”

“I want to know how to remove Crests,” Byleth said, getting straight to the point.

“Your...Crest?” Rhea whispered slowly. “I am afraid removing it poses far too great a ris—”

“Not my Crest. Someone else,” Byleth interrupted.

Rhea simply stared at Byleth nonplussed. This wasn’t the line of questioning she had been expecting from him.

“You gave Jeralt his Crest.” Byleth continued, speaking in an unusually hurried tone. “You know how to bestow Crests onto others.”

“...I will not deny it,” Rhea murmured after a short pause. “It is true that I—among others—have successfully been able to gift humans with this power. However, to my knowledge, nobody has ever managed to have their Crest removed.”

Byleth’s heart sank upon hearing this, though he wasn’t surprised.

“Perhaps nobody has ever tried,” Byleth suggested.

“Perhaps...” Rhea repeated softly.

“You must know something.”

“I apologize, dear child, but I cannot assist you.”

“Can’t or won’t?” Byleth asked sternly.

Rhea didn’t respond.

“Tell me what you know. Anything will help,” Byleth pressed.

Rhea simply lowered her head and remained quiet. Whatever information Rhea had, she clearly had no intention of sharing it.

“...If you don’t do anything, someone is going to die.” Byleth said, now pleading.

“I offer my sincerest condolences...” Rhea whispered. “But I am of no use to you in this state. Nor can I share my knowledge...not with you or anyone.”

Byleth was starting to panic, but he still had one more idea.

“If you help me—if I can save her, I...will stay at your bedside for your remaining days.”

Rhea glanced up at him, her expression unreadable.

“I can tell you about my time with Sothis...my memories of her,” Byleth offered, certain that this would win Rhea over.

Rhea’s eyes widened and for a moment she gave a small smile—the first time she had smiled in weeks, maybe months. But this didn’t last long, as Rhea soon shook her head and lowered her gaze once again.

“No. As much as I would desire this, I cannot accept,” Rhea said softly. “Your duty is to Fodlan, you cannot stay with me.”

Byleth’s face fell. That was it. That had been his final trump card. If _this_ couldn’t convince Rhea, then nothing would. As Byleth lowered his head in hopelessness, Rhea stared at him sympathetically. She didn't know what was going on, but seeing Byleth in this broken state...she was reminded of how Jeralt looked when Sitri had died. Rhea had no desire to share this information but...perhaps this was her chance to make amends for her past mistakes.

“I will help you...on one condition.” Rhea relented.

“What is it?” Byleth asked his eyes unusually wide as he stared at Rhea intensely.

“You must promise that the knowledge I share...will be a secret that you take to the grave.”

* * *

**Verdant Wind**

**Fodlan’s New Dawn**

**Day 18 of the Horsebow Moon**

_Knock knock knock!_

“Ugh...yeah, yeah I’m coming.” Lysithea grumbled as she rose out of bed, still in her nightgown, and answered the door.

It was Byleth.

“Sorry for waking you,” Byleth said while Lysithea rubbed her eyes tiredly.

“P-Professor?” Lysithea yawned. “What...what are you doing up so early? It’s not even morning...”

“I need your help.”

“My...help?” Lysithea mumbled, still half-asleep.

“I found another lead for a cure.”

“Another...?” Lysithea paused for a moment as her brain registered what he said. “This again?! Professor, I told you we don’t have enough time!”

“We still have two days.” Byleth corrected her.

“You’re about to become the ruler of Fodlan, you really should be focusing on your responsibilities,” Lysithea said sternly, trying to mask her concern with anger.

“My responsibility is to fulfill my promise to you.”

“You only promised that you would _help_ me,” Lysithea reminded him. “You’ve done more than enough and, while I appreciate your efforts, you can’t expect to be a proper leader when you’re placing all of your focus on me.”

“How can I save Fodlan if I can’t save a single student?” Byleth countered.

“You really _are_ stubborn, you know that?” Lysithea said, folding her arms.

“One more try,” Byleth insisted, staring intently into Lysithea’s eyes and taking her hand into his.

Lysithea tried to give Byleth a disapproving look but found herself melting under his gaze, her cheeks reddening slightly.

“I’ll think about it.” Lysithea said non-committedly, heading inside her room and beckoning the professor to follow. “Just what is this ‘lead’ you've found?”

“Blood replication surgery.” Byleth responded, sitting on Lysithea’s bed.

“Hang on, that’s...”

“It’s similar to blood reconstruction surgery, yes.” Byleth nodded. “I’m sure this will work.”

“But what is it, exactly?”

Byleth paused for a moment and placed a hand to his chin, wondering how best to explain it and how much he could afford to tell her while keeping his promise to Rhea.

“...Claude told you about the children of the goddess, right?”

“He did.” Lysithea nodded. “But how is that related to me?”

“Do you remember the legends of a strange liquid that could bestow certain people with Crests?”

“Yes...and others would turn into horrific beasts.” Lysithea added.

“Pure Crest-bearing blood infects the human body like a poison. It’s dangerous.” Byleth explained. “Those Who Slither in the Dark developed a blood ritual to safely transfer these Crests.”

Byleth wasn’t really sure whether this was true or not. It was actually Seiros who used this method to safely bestow the Crests of the Saints to her followers. But it was also likely that Those Who Slither in the Dark used the same method as well.

“So, in other words, this ritual would replicate one person’s blood to match another?” Lysithea questioned.

“Yes.”

“And...is it safe?” Lysithea asked nervously.

“It’s not the same as the experiments performed on you,” Byleth reassured her.

Based on what Rhea had said, blood reconstruction surgery involved changing the properties of existing blood into something new. Something potentially unstable and dangerous. This was why so many children from the Imperial Royal Family and House Ordelia had died. However, blood replication surgery relied on overwriting blood until it matched a different, yet stable, blood sample. Thus, it was much safer.

“I’ll admit, I _am_ intrigued.” Lysithea said, pondering the situation.

There were only two more days until the coronation and, if Lysithea was being honest with herself, she didn’t want to spend this remaining time cooped up in her room or the library, overworking herself, before undergoing hours of pain and stress in a blood ritual. And she certainly didn’t want to get her hopes up again either. However, this new revelation _did_ sound promising...

“Do...do you really think this could work?” Lysithea asked anxiously.

“This ritual was made to implant Crests,” Byleth pointed out. “Crest-bearing blood is powerful enough to overwrite ordinary blood, but usually it wouldn’t work in reverse.”

“Usually?” Lysithea repeated.

“We recently drained the Crest power from your body.” Byleth reminded her. “Your blood should still be powerless. All we need now is blood that is both powerful and Crestless."

“But where would we find such blood?” Lysithea frowned.

Byleth didn’t respond and simply stared at her intently.

“Wait, do you mean...yourself?” Lysithea asked, wide-eyed.

“My mother held unique blood and Jeralt bore the Major Crest of Seiros,” Byleth explained. “And though I have a Crest, my blood is Crestless.”

“There’s no telling if this will work, but what you say does make sense,” Lysithea acknowledged. “Where did you learn about all of this, anyway?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Byleth said. “What matters is that this might help you.”

“...Oh, all right. You’ve convinced me,” Lysithea sighed, smiling in spite of herself, and earning a smile from Byleth in return. “But wait, if we’re using _your_ blood—”

“—I won’t be able to perform the ritual alone,” Byleth finished. “I will need your help.”

“That only gives me _two days_ to study this!”

“It will be difficult.”

“What are you still doing here, then?! I need to get dressed!” Lysithea exclaimed, shooing Byleth out of her room.

“I’ll meet you in my quarters.” Byleth said, barely containing his amusement at Lysithea's sudden enthusiasm.

* * *

**Verdant Wind**

**Fodlan’s New Dawn**

**Day 19 of the Horsebow Moon**

It was late evening as Byleth and Lysithea continued performing the final phases of the blood replication surgery. Mastering the necessary blood magic in a mere two days had been no easy task, but after 30 hours of non-stop study and practice with little food and no sleep, the two of them managed to pull it off. 

Following Rhea's advice, Byleth had chosen to perform the blood ritual in the Goddess Tower. The Goddess Tower was a sacred place, magically attuned, and flowed with the power of the goddess herself, making it an ideal place to perform white magic and, by extension, blood magic. Rhea had used the tower many times herself to conduct this very same ritual and bestow her most loyal followers with the Crest of Seiros.

To Lysithea's relief, the blood ritual they were performing was proving to be much less painful and strenuous than their last attempt, and although Byleth credited this improvement to their hard work and the power of the Goddess Tower, Lysithea knew there was more to it than that. There was something else at play that was helping them produce far greater results than their previous efforts.

The preceding rituals had merely been the result of clumsy experimentation based on research notes they barely understood. The studies Byleth and Lysithea conducted relied on a combination of unfounded theories, crude guesswork, and a lot of dumb luck. But this time it was different. Lysithea didn't know how, but it was clear that the professor had a deep understanding magic that was being used here.

But the professor's proficiency in the ritual wasn't the only magical improvement. Lysithea noticed that the professor's arcane abilities had advanced significantly. Perhaps it was the Goddess Tower resonating with the Crest of Flames, but it seemed as though Byleth had gained a new mastery over his Crest and was using it much more harmoniously with his spellwork, thus increasing the potency and stability of his magic.

Lysithea had tried asking the professor multiple times on how he had obtained all this knowledge, but each time she did, Byleth would simply tell her to focus on the ritual. And so she did, murmuring incantations alongside him, synchronizing her magic with his, and controlling the flow of power that formed from Byleth's blood.

Keeping true to his word, Byleth never did fully explain the ritual process to Lysithea, only that her role was to manifest power from his wound and then direct that power into the incision on her left arm. While Lysithea did this, Byleth used the energy she transmitted to perform the blood replication process, overwriting her blood to match his own.

"One last step," Byleth informed her.

Lysithea nodded. Whatever Byleth was doing now was completely different from everything else they had tried. Based on the sensations Lysithea felt in her body, this final step didn't seem to be affecting her blood, but her bones. More importantly...it seemed to be _working._ Lysithea didn't know what was happening, but she could feel a significant difference in her body.

The process lasted a few minutes, but once they were done, Lysithea knew, even before Byleth motioned for her to stop, that it was over.

"Professor I..." Lysithea paused, at a loss for words.

“We’ve done all that we can,” Byleth said solemnly as he healed the incision on Lysithea's arm.

“We have,” Lysithea nodded in numb disbelief. “I can feel that the Crests are no longer a part of me.”

There was no need to consult Hanneman's Crest Analyzer this time. Lysithea knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that her Crests were gone.

It was hard to describe how she was feeling, but there was more to it than simply losing power. Lysithea had never felt so clean, so _whole_ before _._ It was as though there had been two different entities living inside her all this time, each with a mind of their own and both subtly influencing her in their own way. But now they were gone and Lysithea was just...Lysithea.

“That must mean I'll...I mean, my body will...” Lysithea stuttered.

“We can't say for sure, but we can hope,” Byleth said softly, staring intently at her.

Despite all they had accomplished, it was a bittersweet victory for Byleth who, until now, had always taken it for granted that removing Lysithea's Crests would mean restoring her lifespan as well. He hadn't anticipated this uncertainty...the grim possibility that Lysithea's lost years could never be recovered.

“Thank you, Professor. No matter the outcome, I feel a sense of peace. I have hope, and that hope will carry me through it all.” Lysithea said appreciatively. “You've done so much, searching for a way to remove my Crests—to save me. I can't tell you how much it means to me.”

Lysithea, by contrast, was content with this triumph. Even if her future was uncertain, having her Crests removed gave Lysithea a sense of closure. It meant that, even if the worst came to pass, at least she wouldn't have to spend her final days surrendering herself to a fate of misfortune. The nightmare was over...and she had her stubborn professor thank for that.

“So, what will you do now?” Byleth asked, subconsciously placing his hand against his pocket where Sitri's ring rested.

“I will not claim my title. House Ordelia will end with my father's generation,” Lysithea said resolutely. “After this, I'm going to begin preparations for our family's dissolution. This will ensure that the people of our territory will not be troubled. And my parents will be able to live out their lives in peace.”

“And after that?” Byleth prompted, having expected this answer.

“A good question...” Lysithea said slowly, her eyes widening.

Until now, there never was an 'after that'. Lysithea had always seen the restoration of Ordelia territory simply as...the end. But with her Crests removed, she was now free to make her own choices, to live out her life the way _she_ wanted. There were infinite possibilities and yet...Lysithea felt she already knew where she belonged.

“I hadn't considered it. But, assuming I have life left in me...” Lysithea hesitated somewhat shyly, glancing towards Byleth. “Would it be all right if I came back here? To...stay by your side?”

It was ironic in a way. Lysithea had spent her entire life chained to her own sense of duty, helping her parents govern their territory. She was now free to do whatever she wanted...and yet all Lysithea wanted to do was support Byleth the same way he had supported her. She wanted...to be close to him.

“Without my Crests, I'm not sure what all I'd be able to do for you.” Lysithea admitted. “But you have given me a new life. I want to use my time to support you however I can. I just...”

Lysithea faltered for a moment, but before she could continue, she felt Byleth place something small in her hand.

“Lysithea...I want you to have this,” Byleth said with a warm smile.

Lysithea glanced down at the small object Byleth had given her...it was a beautiful, ornate silver ring, embedded with amethysts. It was...

“Oh! Is this...this is...” Lysithea gasped.

...A wedding ring.

“I'll be waiting for your safe return," Byleth said tenderly.

For the briefest moment, Lysithea was confused. Byleth had given her a ring and yet he had not proposed the question...but then Lysithea realized that he didn't need to. This wasn't a traditional proposal. Rather...it was simply the next step for them. Obviously, Byleth hadn't been carrying this ring with him by mere happenstance. He had been planning this for some time, waiting for the perfect moment to announce their engagement. There was no doubt in his mind that she would accept it.

Lysithea looked up, staring at him guiltily as she finally understood what had truly been at stake—what Byleth had been fighting so hard for. Not just her future...but _their_ future. Lysithea hadn't merely given up on her life, she had given up on him. She had given up on their love, their future as a couple—as a family. Lysithea couldn't help but feel...ashamed of herself.

“What I said earlier about not caring what the outcome of all this is...I take it back,” Lysithea said shakily, forcing herself to meet Byleth's gaze. “For the longest time, I didn't think I'd be around to be a part of the future you and everyone were creating. That I had no place in it.”

Lysithea trembled as she finally admitted to herself the sentiment that had been plaguing the back of her mind for years. The sense of not belonging. That she was truly alone, no matter how many friends surrounded her. Until now, all she could do was accept it...but Lysithea didn't want to just 'accept' it anymore. She didn't want to feign indifference. Not when Byleth was trying so hard to create a future for them.

“But now, I cannot fight it any longer...I do care. And I do not wish to give up on chasing that future. I do not wish to die! I refuse to give up...on myself, or on our future.” Lysithea exclaimed, her eyes welling with tears. “And so...I promise to come back to you. No matter what!”

Byleth stumbled back as Lysithea, without warning, flung herself against him and buried her head against his chest.

“Once I'm back...” Lysithea whispered in a quavering voice.

“We will chase that future. Together." Byleth finished as he held Lysithea close and stroked her hair.

“Yes, I quite like the sound of that. Together!” Lysithea gushed, her heart fluttering. “It is decided. We will be together forever. Living long, full lives! Count on it, my love.”

* * *

Several hours passed and night fell upon Garreg Mach, bringing an icy chill along with it. During this time, Byleth and Lysithea remained at the Goddess Tower, their backs to the wall and Byleth’s overcoat draped around them as Lysithea rested her head against Byleth’s shoulder and Byleth leaned his head against hers.

Byleth glanced down to Lysithea and smiled warmly as he caught her admiring her engagement ring once again.

“I take it you like the ring?” Byleth asked coyly.

He was teasing, of course, but due to his monotone, Lysithea missed the joke and answered candidly.

“It’s lovely, Byleth,” Lysithea said cheerfully, making sure to address her new fiancé by name. “I can’t believe you were able to afford this—you didn’t go through _too_ much trouble, did you?”

“It was my mother’s, actually,” Byleth said. “Jeralt...wanted me to give it to someone I love.”

“Your mother’s?” Lysithea asked. “But this ring, it looks—”

“—like it was made for you?” Byleth finished, with a small smile.

Lysithea nodded bashfully, glancing back to the ring again. The silver and amethysts were a perfect complement to her hair and outfit. She had assumed that Byleth picked it out himself for this very reason.

“I guess Claude would call it ‘fate’.” Byleth said.

“Um, ‘fate’?” Lysithea repeated with an amused smile.

“We were destined to be together.” Byleth said, his toneless voice making it difficult to determine if he was being serious or flirting.

Lysithea rolled her eyes and let out a small sigh, tilting her head slightly to kiss Byleth’s cheek before returning to her relaxed position. Byleth glanced towards her and, although his face didn’t show it, it warmed his heart to see Lysithea so happy...so relaxed and peaceful. She looked as though she might doze off at any moment.

“How are you feeling?” Byleth asked.

“Tired...” Lysithea mumbled sleepily, resting her eyes and nuzzling against him.

She was exhausted, but saying it aloud only made Lysithea realize just _how_ tired she really was. Not just from her recent lack of sleep, but from her Crests, the pressure she had placed herself under for all these years, the massive workload she endured, the war—everything. Even when she had been resting, Lysithea’s mind was always focused on work and just how much time she had left.

But now...the war was finished, her Crests had been removed, and her life was no longer an hourglass. It was over. It was finally over and, for the first time, Lysithea was without worry. For the first time in her life, she could truly _relax._

“We should get some sleep, then,” Byleth suggested. “It will be a busy day tomorrow.”

“Um, actually...do you mind if we stay like this? Just a bit longer?” Lysithea pleaded.

“You must be cold.”

“No. Actually, I’m feeling quite cozy.” Lysithea insisted as she snuggled closer, her hair tickling Byleth’s nose.

“...I suppose I don’t mind then,” Byleth murmured, his cheeks turning a faint red as a familiar candy-like scent filled his nostrils.

Lysithea giggled and closed her eyes with contentment once again while Byleth absentmindedly stroked her hair. She was so warm, so content and sleepy. It _was_ tempting to nod off, but Lysithea wouldn’t allow herself to sleep. Byleth had managed to make this special occasion even more special by proposing to her on the spot and Lysithea wanted to enjoy this moment for as long as possible.

...And at some point, she was going to have to ask Byleth whether or not they would be sharing a room now. It was something that made Lysithea feel both excited and nervous...was she ready for such a big step? They hadn’t even shared their first kiss, after all. And was it even appropriate? They were engaged, sure, but not yet married.

This was the sort of thing that Lysithea’s mother had always wanted to discuss with her, but Lysithea didn’t care to listen to. As far as Lysithea was concerned, she would never be involved in a relationship anyway, so what was the point of learning about romance, her 'role as a woman', and other such nonsense?

And Lysithea knew, of course, that she couldn’t turn to Byleth for help—he was probably even _more_ clueless! To make matters worse, he was likely counting on her to lead him. The idea of teaching her new fiancé about all this was...very embarrassing. Lysithea would have to ask her parents about it the next time she saw them.

Lysithea let out a sigh as she reminded herself that she was going home soon. Lysithea missed her parents dearly and she was excited to see them again—to tell them everything that transpired and celebrate her marriage, the war’s end, and her longevity with her mother and father. But going home also meant going back to a strict work schedule and the idea of separating from Byleth so soon after their engagement was...heartbreaking.

“We won’t be able to see much of each other tomorrow, will we?” Lysithea asked sadly

“No.” Byleth replied plainly. “And you are planning to leave the day after, right?”

“...I must.” Lysithea sighed.

“I’m headed to the Alliance as well, to Derdriu. We can journey together.” Byleth suggested.

“That would be nice.” Lysithea agreed with a small smile.

“When we part ways, I will send several battalions of knights to accompany you.”

“While I appreciate the offer, that’s really not necessary,” Lysithea insisted. “I don’t need an escort, I’m perfectly capable, you know.”

“They’re not escorts,” Byleth corrected her. “I’m sending them with you to help restore Ordelia territory.”

“They...what?”

"You said it could take years to restore your territory," Byleth reminded her. "But if I send your family enough troops and resources, we could cut it down to months."

“That’s sweet of you, but I simply cannot accept that." Lysithea protested. "Our new kingdom has only just been founded. It would be reckless to allocate your resources in such a way.”

“...I... want to see you again,” Byleth muttered sheepishly.

“So do I, but as the new ruler you must be fair and just. You can’t—"

“Seteth won’t be around to help me forever,” Byleth interrupted. “And I won’t be able to restore Fodlan without your help.”

Lysithea went quiet and stared at Byleth critically. He was being completely serious about this, wasn't he? ...Byleth wasn't just assisting her on a selfish whim. He was doing it because he truly believed having her at his side was best for the kingdom.

“Y-You...you really think that highly of me, do you?” Lysithea mumbled bashfully.

“I always have,"

His voice was completely devoid of emotion as always. It was deadpan and serious, lacking any hint of romantic intent. But Lysithea only found this aspect about Byleth to be endearing. She could always trust that he was being sincere with her...and the fact that he respected her and saw her as a capable person, someone he depended on—even without her Crests—meant far more to her than any flattery would.

“Truly?” Lysithea asked, smiling broadly.

“Truly,” Byleth repeated.

“...Even when we were in the academy?”

Byleth nodded.

“Heh, I was honestly a bit of a mess back then,” Lysithea admitted sheepishly.

“You worked hard. I thought you were admirable.”

“Thanks, but it isn’t as though you were lacking a work ethic yourself.”

“Maybe...but you had other virtues that I lacked.”

“Such as?” Lysithea asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Your life had meaning. You worked hard for people other than yourself,” Byleth muttered. “...Until I became a professor, I only lived for myself. My days as a mercenary, my time travelling Fodlan...I hardly remember any of it. There was nothing worth remembering. I didn’t have a purpose.”

“Byleth...” Lysithea said softly with a small concerned frown, taking his hand.

“I’m OK now,” Byleth assured her. “Thanks to you and the other students.”

Lysithea smiled and nestled her head underneath his chin. Despite his cold, hardened appearance, Byleth was...surprisingly cuddly.

“...You mentioned I had other qualities?” Lysithea asked playfully.

“You were always skilled at expressing your emotions.”

“That’s not a ‘skill’, Byleth!” Lysithea giggled.

“It is to me,” Byleth asserted

“Really, I had no self-control back then,” Lysithea sighed. “To be perfectly honest, I wanted to be more like you.”

“You were easy to talk to. I never had trouble understanding you. And...I liked seeing you smile,” Byleth added quietly

“Is that so?” Lysithea said, looking up and smiling sweetly at him.

"Yes, just like that..." Byleth muttered quietly.

Although his face remained as stoic as ever, Byleth blushed slightly. Lysithea did too when she realized that their faces were a mere few inches from each other. She shyly tried to turn away but was stopped when Byleth placed a hand to her cheek and ever so gently turned her to face him, staring intently into her eyes...bracing himself for something.

“Byleth...I—”

“I’m ready.” Byleth said resolutely, his face hardened.

“Y-Yes, as am I...” Lysithea affirmed nervously.

 _What?! No I'm not!_ Lysithea internally screamed. _But even so, I want to do this..._

The two of them slowly inched their faces closer.

_We are engaged, after all. So there's no sense in putting this off any longer!_

Byleth closed his eyes, as did Lysithea, who braced herself for impact. They moved closer...

_Almost._

And closer...

_Any moment now._

_..._

_No—no! I can't do this! What if I mess up? Or if someone walks in on us again?! Or—_

But there were no interuptions. Finally, her lips lightly touched his. It wasn’t forceful, there was little movement, and no tongue was involved. It was gentle, timid, and innocent...an inexperienced first kiss. Byleth moved his lips more firmly onto hers and they awkwardly held this position for a few moments before breaking away.

"W-We...we did it," Lysithea whispered breathlessly.

"Yeah..." Byleth muttered in an uncharacteristically nervous tone.

He was still holding Lysithea tightly in his arms, their faces still mere inches from each other. Byleth felt a heat rising in his body and soon realized it wasn't just intimacy that he was feeling, but embarrassment. They had just shared their first kiss and yet it had been such a...clumsy attempt on his part.

“Sorry...” Byleth said softly. “I’m...not the best at expressing myself.”

“Don’t worry about it. I can’t say I have much experience in this sort of thing either,” Lysithea admitted shyly, trying to comfort him.

It was all too clear that neither of them knew what they were doing, but for Lysithea this hardly detracted from the moment. Far from it. If anything, she was happier knowing that they were sharing this awkward experience together...that their first kiss had been reserved for each other and nobody else. However, she could tell that kissing wasn’t the only thing on Byleth’s mind...

“Are you all right?” Lysithea asked with a small frown.

“It’s never been in my nature to express my emotions. But...I do feel them,” Byleth paused for a moment, as if straining his voice to force an emotional inflection. “I...care about you, Lysithea. I want you to be happy. And even if I can’t show it, I hope you know that I love—"

“Byleth,” Lysithea interrupted.

Byleth hesitated and, before he could respond, Lysithea had pressed her lips to his once again. This kiss was bolder—more forceful as Lysithea placed one hand on Byleth’s shoulder and the other on the back of his head, pulling him in and deepening the kiss.

What was this feeling? These unfamiliar sensations and new emotions Byleth felt as he returned her kiss. He wanted to...protect her? Protect her from what? No, he wanted to be...close to her. 

Byleth held Lysithea more firmly, the latter moaning slightly as he stroked her hair. His arms were wrapped tightly around her and yet...Byleth still longed to be closer, somehow. Compensating for this desire, Byleth attempted to mimic Lysithea's passionate movements, quickly complying when Lysithea’s tongue invaded his mouth and met his own.

“Lysithea...I...” Byleth gasped breathlessly when they finally broke apart.

Lysithea's chest swelled with pride, pleased to see that she had left him utterly speechless.

“Now you listen to me. I don’t care what you say, I’m more than capable of seeing through that stony face of yours,” Lysithea said in a gentle scolding tone. “I know exactly how you feel—you’ve shown it time and time again. After everything you've done, you have nothing to prove to me, OK?”

“...OK,” Byleth said, nodding slowly with a small smile.

“Good. Now that we've sorted that out, we really should get some sleep,” Lysithea suggested. “The others will expect you to be well rested tomorrow and I want to enjoy our last day together as the Golden Deer House. Is there anything else before we head to bed?”

“...I wouldn’t mind one more kiss,” Byleth chuckled unabashedly.

Lysithea folded her arms upon hearing this but couldn’t resist smirking as she pulled him in and resumed where they had left off, this time allowing Byleth to take the lead.

Now that it was all said and done, Lysithea found that she was grateful that their first kiss had waited until this moment. Because now it meant so much more. He was no longer her professor and she was no longer his desperate student, hoping that she wouldn’t have to depart this world without ever kissing anyone.

Instead, he was her fiancé. Her husband-to-be. And she was kissing him not in desperation, but to celebrate their union...and the long and peaceful future they would share together.

**The End**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...Oof. Yeah, I'm really not good at romance.
> 
> A reminder that I will be updating Chapters 1-17 and eventually post the fic on Fanfiction.net for anyone interested.
> 
> Lastly, I'd like to end this by saying thank you to all my readers and everyone who supported me. Special thanks to the new Byleth/Lysithea discord server, which many of my fans frequent. For those interested in joining, you can find it here:
> 
> https://discord.gg/U7VqdcF


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